


For Better or For Worse

by TheEmcee



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Complete, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, Homesickness, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, life debts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-17
Updated: 2013-06-30
Packaged: 2017-11-29 13:42:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 32
Words: 76,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/687628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEmcee/pseuds/TheEmcee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A long time ago, a hobbit, a Baggins of Bag End, saved a dwarf prince, one of the line of Durin, and died in the process. As a result, the dwarf prince made a vow to the dying Baggins that one day one of his line would take a Baggins as a consort to repay the hobbit for his sacrifice. Years passed and Gandalf the Grey pays Bilbo Baggins a visit that will change his life for better or for worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, actors, or the fandom.
> 
> A/N: I…I just don't know. I thought of this while on the cusp of sleep, which should explain it, but still… Don't kill me!

~…~

Prologue

~…~

Every hobbit in the Shire knew the story of Hollis Baggins and the dwarf prince Taegan, son of Thane of the Line of Durin.

Part Took, on his mother's side, Hollis had been visiting family in Bree when the dwarf prince and a few of his companions entered the Prancing Pony. The dwarves were ridden with wounds and injuries, but they ate and drank nonetheless and made merry. Hollis was quick to notice the dwarf prince, Taegan, and his Took side eventually made him approach the small company, albeit hesitantly. He had always been known to be a bit queer, what with having Tookish blood in his veins, and Hollis was ever the curious creature. As he had never seen a dwarf before or talked to one, he struck up a conversation about, well, food, which made quite a bite of sense when one took time to ponder it.

The night wore on and the dwarves, fascinated by a creature such as a hobbit, asked Hollis about life in the Shire, paying rapt attention to how the hobbit described the various meal times they had. It was not longer thereafter, very late in the evening or, rather, very early in the morning, that Hollis was asked to accompany Taegan and his fellow dwarves on their return home. They had been traveling on business and diplomacy issues, they had explained to the hobbit, and they found him and his peculiar ways so fascinating and intriguing that they wished for him to come. And, of course, Hollis, with his Took side outweighing his Baggins side, readily agreed. Having never been on an adventure before, he saw it as an opportunity to see more of the world than what lay in the books back in his hobbit hole.

And so, Hollis left with the dwarves the very next day. Although the Baggins in him would show itself, he quickly pushed it away with the thought that he would turn right around and head back home once he reached the city of Dale. But first, he wanted to see Erebor, the Lonely Mountain of which his dwarven companions spoke of often. However, Hollis Baggins never made it that far.

Along the way, an orc pack ambushed the dwarves and the hobbit. A great fight ensued in which most of the orcs were slain. In the midst of the battle, Taegan was fighting off two orcs, both of peculiar large size for orcs, and was being backed against a boulder. Being highly skilled with a sword, Taegan managed to strike a death blow to one by piercing its heart with his sword. In doing so, however, Taegan had to neglect the other orc, who found the opportunity to kill the dwarf prince. Although Taegan did not see it, Hollis did, and before the orc's sword could slice into the prince, the hobbit pushed him aside and was struck down himself. Realizing what had happened, Taegan quickly ended the orc's life, but the damage had already been done.

The hobbit laid in a pool of his blood on the battlefield, the only casualty the dwarves of Erebor suffered that terrible day. There was nothing that could be done to reverse the damage and Hollis had only minutes to live, if that, when Taegan knelt by his side and grasped his hand. With eyes the color of winter blue, Taegan made a promise, a vow, to Hollis as the hobbit lay dying. He vowed that, someday, a dwarf prince from the Line of Durin would take a Baggins to be his consort, to rule by his side in the Lonely Mountain of the great dwarf kingdom Erebor. The hobbit would be well loved and cherished more than any jewel or gem or piece of gold that could be found. That, Taegan had told him, was the only way he could repay Hollis for the life debt he owed.

With a smile on his face and blood seeping from his mouth, Hollis Baggins quietly thanked Taegan, son of Thane, before he closed his eyes and, with one last, fleeting breath, he died. That is how the story of Hollis Baggins and Taegan, son of Thane, went, and while most hobbits used it to tell a morale (such as, 'that is why hobbits should never partake in adventuring!'), Bilbo Baggins, as a small hobbit child, found it to be utterly heart-breaking and romantic. His mother, Belladonna, told him that the story and the vow that Taegan made were as real as the hair on his feet.

But as the years wore on, Bilbo found that he began to believe in the story less and less. When his parents passed away, he found himself agreeing with the other hobbits in the Shire who said that the story was nothing more than a morale tale for children. And that was how it remained for many years.

~…~

Bilbo Baggins had not been expecting any visitors today, but the familiar ringing of his doorbell told him that he had one nonetheless. Getting up from his comfy chair, he made his way to the door and opened it up. Standing before him was an old friend of the family's, Gandalf the Grey. His eyes lit up and Bilbo opened the door wider, inviting the wizard inside.

"Gandalf! It's so nice to see you. Come in, come in!" Gandalf entered his hobbit hole.

"Would you care for some tea?" Bilbo asked him as he made his way to the kitchen. "Some bacon? I could make you something if you'd like."

"Tea would be quite lovely, thank you," Gandalf said, smiling down at him. "Just tea."

Bilbo set about making the tea. "What brings you to the Shire, Gandalf? It's been a while since you're last visit."

"Yes, it has been." Gandalf sat down in the wooden rocking chair that he usually sat in.

"Since I was a little hobbit, I do believe," Bilbo said conversationally.

"That sounds about right," the wizard replied softly. After a few minutes, Bilbo came into the den with the tea. He placed it on the table and handed Gandalf his cup before sitting down.

"So, to what do I owe this unexpected visit, Gandalf?" Bilbo asked before taking a sip of tea. He had to admit that he was curious as to why the wizard showed up out of the blue. Not that he wasn't pleased to see him; on the contrary, he was very happy indeed to see Gandalf, but still. Something told him that this particular visit was anything but ordinary.

"As sharp as ever, I see. But then again, you always were," Gandalf chuckled before he turned serious. "You remember the story of Hollis Baggins, yes?"

"Yes…" Bilbo said slowly, not entirely sure where the wizard was going with this. "That was just a story. Surely something like that never happened. And even if it did, it couldn't have happened to a Baggins. We are the most respected hobbits in the Shire. We don't go adventuring or anything of the sort." He finished with an uneasy chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. It didn't work.

"I'm afraid, my dear Bilbo, that the story is, in fact, true. Hollis Baggins was, indeed, a Baggins of Bag End and Taegan, son of Thane, did make a vow that one of his descendents would marry a Baggins to repay the life debt that he himself could not repay."

As he listened to Gandalf, Bilbo thought back on his childhood. Back then, he willingly believed the story and thought that it was both tragic and amazing. To think that a mere hobbit, a Baggins at that, had saved a dwarf prince. Not only that, but for the dwarf prince to promise one of his own to a Baggins! The mere thought rang of romanticism and it used to make Bilbo want to venture beyond the Shire. But that was what he had thought when he was a mere child. Hearing that the story was true as a matured hobbit made it even more remarkable and astounding. Being told that his favorite childhood story was true was too good to be true.

"You…You must be… Are you sure, Gandalf?" Bilbo asked. "I mean, many of the hobbits don't believe that the story was true…" He trailed off, not knowing what else to say. What else was there to say, really? A twinkle shone in Gandalf's eye.

"Believe me, Bilbo, I would not be here if the story was not true." At that, confusion began to spread throughout Bilbo and his face showed it. His heart began to beat thunderously in his chest and his voice sounded small when he spoke.

"What…What do you mean, Gandalf?" The wizard sighed softly and leaned forward on his chair.

"What I mean is that you, Bilbo Baggins, have been chosen to be the consort of Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, of the Line of Durin and soon to be king of the Lonely Mountain."

Bilbo felt light headed. His mind began to think through what Gandalf had just told him. He, a descendent of Hollis Baggins and son of Bungo and Belladonna Baggins, was to be the consort of some dwarf prince that he had never met. The story was true and it was he who had been chosen! Thorin…soon to be king of Erebor…Bilbo was supposed to be his consort? His partner? A dwarf whom he had never met (not that Bilbo had met any dwarves, of course) was supposed to marry him because of something that happened long ago?

"Is, uh, is that r-really…um, necessary?" Bilbo asked, feeling very light headed and dizzy. "C-can't we just call it even and be done with it?" Gandalf chuckled at him.

"I'm afraid that dwarves are not ones to let things such as life debts go so easily. They are a very stubborn people, Bilbo, and would take great offense if you denied them the chance to pay a life debt, especially one from so long ago," the wizard explained.

"So…so there really is no way out, is there?" Bilbo asked, already knowing the answer but hoping and praying that, by some miracle, Gandalf was just pulling his leg. However, the look on Gandalf's face told him that he had not been mistaken at all.

"No, there isn't. Thorin has decided that, instead of finding a dwarf woman to marry, he would simply marry you. Dwarf women are scarce in number I'm afraid and as the life debt had yet to be paid, Thorin thought that it would be best and far easier to take this path."

"O-oh… I…I see," Bilbo muttered.

The next thing he knew, he was falling out of his chair with darkness surrounding his vision and he passed out cold.


	2. I

~…~

I

~…~

The next thing Bilbo saw were Gandalf's worried blue eyes staring at him. Surprised, he felt his body jump and his heart beat increased. Gandalf, now smiling in relief, vanished from his sight unless Bilbo sat up and spotted him in the rocking chairing. As Bilbo rubbed the bump on his head where it hit the floor, he moved his stiff body off of the floor and back into his chair.

"S-Sorry about that," he apologized quickly, his words sounding foreign and strange to his own ears. Gandalf chuckled softly.

"My dear hobbit, there is no need to apologize. I had planned for you to react in such a manner. It is not every day that one discovers they are getting married to a dwarf prince, after all," Gandalf replied. Bilbo's head pounded in his ears and he felt a bit dizzy, much like he had before he fainted.

"So…this is really happening then?" he asked. Gandalf nodded.

"Yes, it is." His stomach sank and Bilbo sighed heavily.

"Isn't there something you could do, Gandalf?"

"I am afraid that matters such as life debts are out of my hands, Bilbo. All that I can do now is make sure that you reach Erebor alive and in one piece, which is exactly what I plan to do."

Silence dwelled within the hobbit hole for a few minutes. The sun was just about to set and its light created a warm, heavenly glow within Bilbo's home. That was when the thought crossed his mind. As he was now a betrothed of a dwarf prince, he would have to leave his home. Everything he had ever known would remain in the Shire while he left to go and live in a dwarf kingdom that he knew absolutely nothing about. Looking around, Bilbo felt himself missing it already. Although he knew that he would be able to bring a few things with him, he knew that he'd have to leave most of it behind. He would have to leave everything his father and mother left him and, he would have to leave his precious maps and books behind as well. Yes, he would gain a husband, a prince about to be king at that, but Bilbo did not know him and, therefore, did not love him. What he knew and loved was here in his hobbit hole and he would have to leave it all behind.

"You can take a few things, Bilbo," Gandalf told him gently, as though he had been reading his mind the entire time. Being a wizard, he probably had. "Not much, but a few trinkets to make the move more bearable and comfortable."

Just like that, with those few words, the reality of the situation hit home. Bilbo Baggins, of Bag End, one of the most respectable hobbits in the Shire, was betrothed to Thorin, the prince of Erebor. He would be leaving his home to travel to a mountain that he had only heard of in stories and would be the consort of a king. His days would consist of nothing but dwarves and mining and diplomacy and he would be so very out of place that it wouldn't even be funny. And, to make matters worse, he knew absolutely nothing about dwarves.

What were they like? Were they was brutish and greedy as he had heard? Or were they different than what he and other hobbits thought? Would they embrace him readily or would he have to do something to prove himself and earn their respect? Bilbo wasn't strong and he had no experience with weaponry; if they wanted him to kill anything in order to be accepted then they'd be sorely disappointed. He wouldn't kill anything, not if he could help it. But if he had to, would Thorin make him? What did Thorin even look like? Was he handsome or hideous? Being a dwarf prince, Bilbo figured that he must be strong and well trained in combat and diplomacy. Would Bilbo be able to keep up with him and be compatible with him on an intellectual level or any other level? They would have to consummate the relationship… Just thinking about that made Bilbo turn as red as a tomato, which was understanding as he had never been with anyone in his entire life.

He quickly thought of something else. What was Erebor like? It being a dwarf kingdom, would it be glorious and magnificent? Or, as it was in a mountain, would it be dark and strange, the complete opposite of what a home should be? Would he get homesick? Would he ever be able to see the Shire again?

"You should get some rest, Bilbo," Gandalf brought him back from his thoughts as he spoke softly. "We must be off tomorrow as soon as we can. And you still need to pack."

"O-oh, right. Of course…" Bilbo stood up mechanically and made his way to his bedroom.

There, he pulled out a pack from a chest and began packing some clothes into it. All of his movements felt stiff and wooden and he could hardly remember what he put into his pack. His thoughts were all jumbled and he found that he couldn't concentrate. He knew that he did put his favorite book into his pack, but how he managed that he had no idea. Bilbo had a feeling that the dwarves knew little of hobbits and he packed as many articles of clothing as he could. It was always better to be safe than sorry.

When he was finished, Bilbo made his way to the bathroom to wash up before bed. He thought briefly about eating something, but as his stomach had yet to stop rolling and as he still felt a bit dizzy, he thought it best to just get some rest. After all, he would be leaving the Shire and everything he had ever known when the morning came, so he'd need the sleep. Washing himself quickly, Bilbo dressed and trudged back to his room. Sitting on his bedside table was a tray of food and Bilbo couldn't help but smile. Gandalf…

"Better tuck in, my dear Bilbo! Our meals will be few and far between when our rations run out," Gandalf called throughout his hobbit hole.

"T-Thank you!" Bilbo managed to squeak, embarrassed at how high pitched his voice had been when he did so.

He ate his food, but he didn't taste any of it. All of his thoughts were focused on how much his life had changed so suddenly. Bilbo had no idea what he was getting into or what he ought to expect, but what he did know was that once he stepped foot outside of his house, he no longer had a home. Oh yes, he would go and live in Erebor and marry Thorin and live alongside him, but it wouldn't be home. It wouldn't feel like home. A very small part of him thought that maybe, just maybe, the Lonely Mountain would become his home and he would belong there. But another part, a larger part, knew that he would never find a home in Erebor.

Bilbo wasn't a fool. He knew that the dwarves wouldn't see him as an equal. Although he was a hobbit, a Baggins nonetheless, by the dwarves' standards, he had no place amongst them. Hobbits were simple folk and they knew little of the world beyond their borders. They weren't fit to endure in the Wilde, let alone in a mountain. Even if he did manage to adjust successfully to life in the Lonely Mountain, Bilbo knew absolutely nothing about dwarf customs. Nor did he know anything about mining or creating items out of precious metals or jewels. Truly, Bilbo would never belong there, not even if he wanted to.

And, oddly enough, part of him did want to belong there. While he had never been to Erebor or anywhere else outside of the Shire, a part of Bilbo Baggins wanted to see the world, to ride through plains and forests and to see the elves and all of the wonders that were out there. That must have been his Took side, he supposed. Tooks were always thought of as queer and more than a bit strange. His mother, Belladonna, had been a Took before he married his father, Bungo, and she never minded it whenever he'd come home trailing mud in the house with leaves and twigs sticking out of his hair. Actually, now that he thought about it, his mother always seemed to encourage him to be adventurous and to go out and see the world.

Now that he thought about it, Bilbo realized that Hollis Baggins had had Tookish blood in his own veins as well. Perhaps that was a sign. Perhaps Bilbo was destined to be the one to become the consort of a dwarf prince. His heart pounded in his chest as he thought about it, but his head couldn't decipher what that meant exactly. Was he excited? Afraid? Anxious? All of the above? Or was he having a panic attack? Bilbo had the feeling that it was probably a little bit of everything.

He laid down on his bed and tried to fall asleep quickly. However, his mind continued racing a mile a minute. It wasn't until later in the night that he finally managed to fall asleep and when he did, he dreamed a strange dream. Before his eyes, images of people he didn't know passed by him. After a few minutes, he realized that what he was seeing were dwarves! Bilbo had never seen a dwarf before and he was in awe that they didn't appear as ugly or brutish as he thought they would be (and he would certainly never tell a dwarf that he originally thought them to be like that).

Bilbo saw the image of an elderly dwarf with white hair and beard that dissolved into a balding dwarf with dark hair and tattoos. Then he saw two younger dwarves, one with blonde hair and one with dark hair. Dwarves kept passing by before him until it stopped on one dwarf in particular. This dwarf had black hair with a few streaks of grey decorating it. He had cold, icy blue eyes and held himself tall and proud, as though he belonged on a throne. Somehow, Bilbo knew that that dwarf was Thorin. He didn't know how he knew, but he just did.

He woke up after sleeping and dreaming fitfully. His chest was heaving and sweat matted his hair to his forehead. Feeling shaken and unnerved, Bilbo made his way to the bathroom and washed his face. Looking at himself in the mirror, he realized that he looked positively petrified. Oh, how he wished now that Hollis had listened to his Baggins side instead of his Took side. If he had, Bilbo wouldn't be paying for it.


	3. II

~…~

II

~…~

"I could just refuse the proposal, Gandalf," Bilbo stated as they made their way to Bree.

The wizard wanted to stop there to gather rations and supplies, which didn't make much sense to the hobbit as Gandalf could have just used whatever was in Bilbo's pantry. However, he knew better than to argue with Gandalf when he got that stubborn look in his eye, so he let the matter slide. That still didn't mean that it wasn't odd.

"Yes, I suppose that you could do that," Gandalf agreed, although there was amusement in his voice. "However, it would not be wise to do so."

"And why is that exactly?" Did Gandalf know that he had piqued Bilbo's interest by saying something cryptic like that? Well, he was a wizard, so probably.

"That, dear Bilbo, is for you to find out." Bilbo's brow furrowed. He was more confused than ever by now and he wanted nothing more than to turn back around. A feeling deep in his gut told him that, by the time they reached Erebor, he'd be at his wits end with wizards and their nonsense.

"Would the dwarves let me go back home if I refuse?" Bilbo asked, changing the subject not so subtly. Gandalf didn't seem to mind, however, for he answered his question all the same.

"If you refuse, it would be seen as a great insult to Thorin and his people. It is quite possible that they would hold you as a prisoner until you agree."

At that, Bilbo paled. "You…you aren't serious, are you, Gandalf?"

"I am very serious. As I have said before, dwarves don't take things such as life debts lightly," Gandalf said. "Bilbo, what is it that you know about life debts?"

Bilbo was a bit taken aback by the question. To be honest, he had never really thought about it before, not even as a young hobbit listening to his mother tell him the story to help put him to sleep. But he figured that it couldn't have been that complicated. He was well aware that a promise or vow could be quite important depending on the circumstances, but promises could easily be broken. That alone told Bilbo that they were set in stone. However, he was wise enough to know that there were a great many things that he did not know.

"Well, to be honest, not much," Bilbo admitted. Gandalf hummed.

"I thought as much. I know that you believe vows and debts to be the same as average, ordinary promised, but they are not. Life debts especially have a strong power of their own," Gandalf explained to him.

"They do?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact they do. You see, Bilbo, when a life debt is created a bridge is formed. A link, actually, and as this one between your line and Thorin's has been in place for a very long time, it would be extremely hard to break. Not that it would be a good idea to break it in the first place."

"Oh," Bilbo muttered softly, disappointment coloring his voice and face. Gandalf looked down at him and gave him a soft, fatherly smile.

"Do not worry so much, my dear Bilbo. In time, you will see that such bonds and links can actually be great gifts," Gandalf said. "You may not think so right now, but in time, I am confident that you will come to terms with your inevitable connection to Thorin."

"And if I don't?" The question was out of Bilbo's mouth before he even had a chance to think. That didn't stop him from asking more of them. "What if I never come to terms with it? What if it's more of a curse than a gift?"

Gandalf did not say anything for a little while. They continued their trek to Bree listening to birds chirp and sing and feeling the wind caress them tenderly like a lover. The longer it took for the wizard to respond, the more frantic Bilbo became. Had he insulted Gandalf? What if he had? Bilbo was already frantic and more than upset by this whole life debt issue; having an angry wizard as a traveling companion would only make that ten times worse. Oh dear, Gandalf would probably turn him into a toad now!

"You will, Bilbo Baggins," Gandalf finally said, his voice soft and filled with a quiet confidence and understanding.

"Do you really think so?" Bilbo half dreaded his answer.

"I think that nothing is set in stone. And I think that you have a lot more potential than you realize," Gandalf told him. "Allow me to add one more thing."

"Go on," Bilbo encouraged him.

"Dwarves are stubborn folk, but Thorin is exceptionally stubborn. Once you two are wed, he will become king and you will be his consort. However, that doesn't mean that you should allow him to pressure you into anything. And I do mean anything." Gandalf gave him a sharp, pointed look. "You will also be a member of royalty. Just because you are a hobbit does not mean that you are beneath him in anyway."

"I already know that Gandalf. After all, I am still a Baggins of Bag End and…and I will not be easily swayed if I don't want to be," Bilbo said, trying to feel prideful even those his feeling of dread over this whole ordeal made that practically impossible. "Hobbits may not wield axes or swords or participate in battles, but we are still deserve to be treated with dignity and respect." Oh, how he wished he felt as sure and confident as he sounded.

"Good. It seems that my worry has been unfounded. Let us press onward. We still have quite a way to go before we reach Erebor."

They stopped in Bree later that evening and stayed at the Prancing Pony. After another fitful night's rest, Bilbo left on a pony the next morning with Gandalf, who was seated on a horse. As they continued their trek, the wizard warned Bilbo of everything they would be facing along the way. The Misty Mountains; Beorn, a man who could change into a bear, which both fascinated and terrified Bilbo; Mirkwood… All of that would lead to Dale, the prosperous town that rested at the foot of Erebor. And then, Bilbo would finally arrive at the dwarf kingdom and meet the prince who he was tied to by a life debt that had strengthened with the throes of time.

~…~

Kili watched his uncle with dark, troubled eyes. He was sitting beside his brother, Fili, at the great table designated for the royal family. Night had just fallen over the land and that meant that it was time for supper. There were many a dwarf making quite merry after a long day's work mining out jewels and gems or foraging beautiful pieces of jewelry or great weapons or other such magnificent trinkets. Loud voices and laughter resounded all throughout the vast dining hall. Everyone was eating and relaxing and having an overall good time.

And yet his uncle sat there, stone faced and brooding even more so than usual. Kili wouldn't have noticed it himself if his uncle had just started to brood, but it had been going on for days now. Ever since Gandalf showed up at the gates of the Lonely Mountain, Thorin had seemed more than slightly troubled. Being a prince, soon to be king, meant that Thorin was trouble all the time, but this was a different kind of troubled. This had more to do with life debts and marriage, both of which Thorin wanted nothing to do with. However, his uncle was a great prince and he would be a great king and that meant that he put his people and his kingdom before anything else. Anything else included his own personal happiness and freedom, apparently.

"What's wrong, dear brother?" Fili asked him. So startled was he by his brother's sudden question that Kili jumped. With wide, brown eyes, he turned to his older brother.

"Uncle." At that, Fili quirked an eye brow. He wasn't smirking or laughing; actually, he looked a bit concerned. Kili instantly felt bad. It hadn't been his intention to worry his brother.

"What about Uncle, Kili?"

"He seems troubled. More so than what he usually is, I mean. Do you not see it, Fili?" Kili asked him. Fili looked past him and observed their uncle for a minute or two before his blue eyes returned to his brother.

"I think he looks more resigned than anything else. But Thorin has always been a sort of pessimist. So why do you think he's troubled?"

"Ever since Gandalf arrived and brought up that hobbit, Thorin's been acting a bit strange." Fili nodded in agreement.

"Aye. He has been," he said. "But it makes sense. After all, taking a consort, especially one who isn't a dwarf, is a rather large step. And this is a hobbit that he's marrying. I don't even know what a hobbit is."

"Neither do I. I've never seen one," Kili said.

"Their Halflings, ladies. Some say that hobbits have a bit of elvish blood in them," Balin explained. They hadn't even realized he had been listening to them until just then. Kili and Fili both gave him guilty looks, at which he merely smiled at. "Fret not. You two weren't being too loud."

"So he's a Halfling? Does that mean he's smaller than us?" Kili asked, youthful curiosity showing in his voice.

"Aye. They're a peaceful, gentle folk, unlike us," Balin replied.

"It's odd that Uncle suddenly decided to repay the life debt and take on a consort," Fili said.

"Thorin knows what he is doing. If he thinks it best to do this, then that is what he will do," Balin stated with a single nod of his head.

"I wonder if Gandalf had anything to do with it," Kili mumbled softly to himself.

"It is possible. Thorin does trust Gandalf; he hasn't led him stray thus far. But I think it was Thrain's illness that made him decide to go through with it in the end."

Fili and Kili shared a look before Fili asked, "You truly believe so?"

"Yes. You both know that the king is on his death bed as we speak. It won't be long before Thorin must take his place and that means that he will need a consort. Best to get it done and over with," Balin told them.

Kili looked over at his uncle again. He could see Thorin doing that to make things easier. And Thrain was very much ill; he probably wouldn't live long enough to see the hobbit set foot in Erebor. With the life debt still hanging over them, it was very much like Thorin to kill two birds with one stone – or, rather two orcs with one sword. But as he watched his uncle, Kili wondered, and not for the first or last time, if this life debt-consort thing was such a good idea.


	4. III

~…~

III

~…~

Gandalf and Bilbo followed the Great East Road on their horse and pony. The scenery was quite lovely and remarkable. It was different than any book he read in his hobbit hole and it wasn't like the rolling green hills of the Shire. Unlike the Shire, the Great East Road was wild and unknown to him, with twists and turns that he knew absolutely nothing about. But there was one thing he knew for sure and that was that the road would lead him and Gandalf to the place that Bilbo had always wanted to see in person: Rivendell.

The Last Homely House East of the Sea, Imladris, was a wonder that Bilbo had always been fascinated by. His desire to see it, to step foot in it, increased with every book he read about it and knowing that he would be able to see it first hand was like a dream come true. If he were to take anything good out of this unexpected betrothal and adventure it was that he was going to stop briefly at Rivendell and see elves for the first time in his life. Oh, how such a thought brought back wonderful memories of childhood when he would go searching the woods around the Shire for elves. As he grew older, he realized how silly such a thing was, but he had been a mere child back then. Now, he knew that elves would not pop up in the woods around the Shire.

Now, he was going to see them in their own home, and he was clinging to the excitement and joy that such a thing would bring him.

Bilbo knew, could already feel it, that it was going to be very difficult and unpleasant living in Erebor for the first few months (he refused to acknowledge that part of his brain was saying 'forever' instead of 'a few months'). After all, he knew no one there. He had never seen a dwarf before except for in books and, well, books couldn't compare to the real world outside of the Shire, as much as it pained him to think so. And he did not know Thorin, had never met him, and was more than a little apprehensive thanks to that dream he had. When it came right down to it, he hadn't appreciated being uprooted from him home and basically forced into a betrothal and marriage that he wanted no part of, and that was why he clung to the happiness that the thought of seeing Rivendell brought him.

It may have been a bit pessimistic of him, something that was a bit out of character for him, but Bilbo doubted that he'd find much happiness in Erebor. Oh yes, he was a worrier, but he never flat out dreaded much of anything, unless it involved the Sackville-Baggins of course. Truth be told, before Gandalf showed up, there wasn't much to dread period. Now though, things had changed. Bilbo was moving into a kingdom that he had only read about in books and one that he hadn't really bothered to remember anything about, not when his mind was more preoccupied with elves. And he was getting married to a dwarf prince whom he didn't know or love and was going to be bound to a people who were nothing like hobbits whatsoever.

Needless to say, Bilbo was trying his best, and failing miserably, to push thoughts of Thorin and Erebor out of his mind and think about Rivendell instead.

Surely, it would be beautiful and breathtaking beyond compare. Bilbo knew that his books could never capture the majesty and wonder of Imladris. He knew that it would be a sight to behold and one that he would never, ever forget for the rest of his life. The journey before him would be a difficult one, but being able to see Rivendell and meet and talk to the elves made it bearable.

"How long will we be staying at Rivendell?" Bilbo asked Gandalf as they rode on. The wizard looked down at him briefly, a knowing twinkle in his eyes, before he turned back to the road before them.

"A day or two to gather supplies and to rest. The Misty Mountains that we must brave in order to get to Beorn's are dangerous. The trek will be difficult and we will have to go on foot. However, if we are vigilant and careful, we will be fine," Gandalf replied. Bilbo felt his heart sink when Gandalf said that they'd only be staying at Rivendell for two days at the most. He had hoped to stay longer.

"Autumn is fast approaching and winter will follow soon afterwards. It would be wise to make it to the Lonely Mountain before then," Gandalf said, as though he had just read Bilbo's mind.

"I understand that, Gandalf. I had just hoped that we would be staying longer at Rivendell than a mere day or two," Bilbo told him. "I've always wanted to see the elves. I would go looking for them in the woods as a young hobbit."

"I know, Bilbo. There were a few times that I passed through the Shire and your mother, Belladonna, would tell me that you were off in the woods searching for elves," Gandalf chuckled softly as he spoke, sounding as though he were recalling a fond memory.

"Will I ever be able to go back and see it? You know, after all of…of this?" Bilbo asked hesitantly. Gandalf sighed softly.

"Thorin cares very little for elves, much like his father, Thrain, and his grandfather, Thror. Relations between Thorin and Thranduil, the Elvenking of the Woodland Realm, are tense and strenuous at best. I'm afraid that Thorin's dislike for Thranduil has moved to every elf in Middle Earth," Gandalf answered. Bilbo's heart sank even further.

"So, in other words, this will be the first and last time I will ever see Rivendell." It was both a question and a statement. Bilbo's voice held a heavy weight and resignation to it that made the wizard frown slightly.

"So it seems, my dear Bilbo."

The sun shining down upon them seemed to dim. The occasional wind that would brush past his face and twine through his curls seemed cooler and indifferent. And the thought of seeing Rivendell now left a bittersweet taste in Bilbo's mouth that he could've lived without.

~…~

Fili hated having to accompany his uncle on his rounds throughout Erebor. He knew that, as the next in line for the throne, he had to know what he was doing and how to be a great ruler. But, honestly, he knew that he wasn't serious enough yet to even think about ruling a kingdom, let alone actually ruling one. Thorin was in his prime; he still had many, many years left to rule as King Under the Mountain, so why did Fili have to tag along with him whenever he did his rounds?

Ever since Kili had pointed out how troubled their uncle had become, Fili himself had kept a close watch on him. At first, he thought that Uncle looked resigned, and he did, but the more he watched, the more he saw the troubled look in Thorin's eyes and how he seemed to brood far more than was the norm for him. Oh, his uncle was a natural brooder, but it had gotten far worse. His entire body seemed to be constantly tense and his shoulders were tight. Every time he went to pick up a sword, axe, or even a pen, his movements were automatic and stiff. And more often than not, he had a look in his eyes that told Fili that his thoughts were far off into the distance instead of on the dealings inside and around Erebor. It was obvious that he was troubled and worried and Fili couldn't really blame Kili for being slightly alarmed over it.

"Fili! Pay attention," his uncle's voice, sharp and commanding, cut through the many thoughts swirling about in his head. His blue eyes met Thorin's much icier ones and he wanted more than anything to be off doing something stupid as was expected of him.

And the only way to do that was to whine.

"But Uncle, I've accompanied you on many a round and every single one of them has bored me to death," Fili said, a whine in his voice and an almost pout on his face. Kili was the successful pouter, not him. When he saw the way Thorin's eye twitch and his brow furrowed in slight irritation, Fili knew that his whiny tone had worked.

"Regardless of whether these rounds bore you or not, someday you will be the King of Erebor and, as such, you will need to know and understand what to do," Thorin stated firmly, his frown obvious in his voice. Fili was used to hearing it.

"You're about to take on a consort, Uncle. Surely, I won't be your heir for much longer," Fili retorted, his voice still holding a sliver of a whiny tone in it. At the mention of the consort business, Thorin tensed and his icy blue eyes darkened and turned hard.

"I believe that I've made no mention of the hobbit to you."

"Gandalf wasn't exactly quiet about it when he arrived and told you about it," Fili said. "Hobbits have a small amount of elvish blood in their veins, so maybe you'll be able to have your own heir and won't have any need of me."

"What transpired between Gandalf and me is none of your business. And do not mention that hobbits have such filth in their blood," Thorin said, his voice low, telling Fili just how angry he was becoming.

"Do you not want to take on a consort then, Uncle? I thought that you believed it was the most convenient way to go about things?" Fili asked. Thorin ran a hand over his face and Fili thought he heard him mutter something about 'annoying nephews', but he wasn't sure.

"What I want does not matter, Fili. A king, a good king, must always put his kingdom and his people before his own wants and desires," Thorin answered him, his voice soft and sounding tired and drained. "The life debt that has been passed down our bloodline has existed for far too long. It is a burden, one that I wouldn't wish upon anyone, especially you and Kili. Taking the hobbit as my consort was only logical."

Fili almost rolled his eyes. He desperately wanted to. Since when was his uncle logical? Before anything else, he was hot headed and prideful. Whatever logic there was in Thorin deciding to pay the life debt and take the hobbit as his consort, to rule by his side, it was probably pointed out by Gandalf. Although Fili didn't know the wizard personally, he knew that he had vast knowledge and was keen and clever. Thorin would not have decided to go through with this if Gandalf hadn't intervened.

"Would you have taken the hobbit as your consort had Gandalf not shown up?" he asked his uncle. Thorin's sigh was barely audible.

"The life debt that has haunted Durin's Folk has been on my mind for a while now," Thorin admitted to him.

"Why is that? There have been many others before your time, before Grandfather's time even. So why does it bother you so much?"

"Because it was something that should have been dealt with long ago. It has been nothing but a burden, left to thicken and stew with time. The life debt would forever tie our people to the Halflings who inhabit the Shire. And as I said before, a king puts his people before himself." Thorin turned to Fili and added, "It would serve you well to remember that, Fili."

They continued through the various levels of the mountain, observing the work that was being done and commenting and commanding when need be. All the while, Fili couldn't help but think that Kili was right: that this thing between Thorin and the hobbit wasn't the best thing to happen to Erebor. And although he could see the wisdom and logic in his uncle's decisions and words, Fili couldn't say that he exactly agreed with them. But then again, he was still a young dwarf who was more focused on pulling pranks and getting into trouble more than learning how to rule a kingdom.


	5. IV

~…~

IV

~…~

By the time Bilbo and Gandalf reached Dale, the hobbit had had quite enough of adventures for one life time. Or several, as a matter of fact.

Rivendell had, of course, been beyond beautiful, although the brief encounter with the trolls left him shaken and tense which hindered his appreciation for the Last Homely House East of the Sea. With its amazing waterfalls and the well tended gardens that had the most amazing flowers, it was spectacular and Bilbo found himself relaxing as soon as he stepped foot inside (the trolls forgotten about temporarily). And the elves. Oh, the elves! They truly were the most beautiful, the wisest, and the most ethereal creatures Bilbo had ever seen. Their eyes held the reflection of immortality, of years spent watching the world and living in it in their own private sanctuary, although they themselves did not look old.

Lord Elrond was everything Bilbo imagined an Elf King should be and so much more. He was very intelligent, very wise, and yet also kind and hospitable. When he spoke of hobbits, it was with respect and curiosity instead of slight disdain. Halflings were considered to be, well, half of what a man was and they definitely weren't dwarves, with their prowess with iron and smith work. They were a simple, gentle folk and many thought them too small and weak. But when Lord Elrond spoke of them, his voice and face didn't hold any hint that he believed them to be small, weak beings.

After two days had past day, much faster than the blink of an eye much to Bilbo's dismay, the hobbit was more than sad to go. He had thoroughly enjoyed his stay at Rivendell and meeting and talking to the elves. However, as Gandalf as hold him more than once, they had a schedule to keep and couldn't remain in one place for more than a day or two.

The Misty Mountains wouldn't have been all that bad had it not been for the ferocious thunderstorm that occurred which in turn brought the stone giants out of their slumber. Avoiding boulders being thrown and great pieces of rock falling hadn't been fun or easy and Bilbo had no intentions of passing through the mountain range ever again. His determination to avoid them for the rest of eternity was solidified when he and Gandalf ran into a bit of a spot with a group of goblins. They had been brought out of their mountain fortress by the lack of passersby intruding on their front porch and their king sent them to scout their territory at night. Running from them until the sun came up and they made it out of the Misty Mountains had been a mini adventure that Bilbo could have lived the rest of his life without.

Meeting Beorn had been quite a nerve-wracking experience. The man was truly large, even for a, well, man, and his rough and gruff personality had, at first, intimidated Bilbo tremendously. He especially disliked it when the bear-man had called him 'little bunny' and laughed merrily at him, but he didn't let Beorn know that. They only stayed at Beorn's for a day, to rest and replenish their supplies. Not that Bilbo was exactly sad to go, not like he had been when they left Rivendell. If he had to spend one more night with Beorn calling him a little bunny, he probably would have said something very impolite and downright rude.

However, as soon as they stepped foot into the Mirkwood, Bilbo would have gladly returned to Beorn's home and endured being called 'little bunny' until the end of his days. But, as it were, Gandalf insisted that they travel through the dark and depressing forest. His nerves were pretty much shot after being told and almost constantly worrying about becoming Thorin's consort; but the giant spiders made sure that he would forever be paranoid. Oh, the giant spiders! Bilbo had never minded spiders when he had lived back in the Shire (and how strange was it for him to think that he no longer lived there), for they had been small and harmless enough. Mirkwood spiders, however, were anything but small and harmless.

Thankfully, Gandalf was a wizard and spiders were no match for a wizard. After the first flash of light and shock wave hit them, they retreated and did not bother Bilbo and Gandalf again. That didn't mean that the hobbit took a liking to the dark forest because he didn't. He was very much relieved when Gandalf led him to the Elvenking's palace. Thranduil was like any other elf; he was majestic, ethereal, and wise. Unlike Lord Elrond, however, he didn't seem nearly as kind hearted or polite. Needless to say, the night Bilbo spent in Thranduil's company wasn't exactly comfortable.

Gandalf did most of the talking, thankfully, and Bilbo was more than content to keep to himself and only speak when he was spoken to. If there was one thing he could say for sure, it was that Thranduil intimidated him far more than Lord Elrond did. After a restless sleep, Gandalf and Bilbo set off for Lake Town, a place that Bilbo preferred over Mirkwood and Thranduil, and from there they traveled to Dale, the city that rested at the gates of Erebor.

After dealing with trolls, goblins, giant spiders, and intimidating Elvenkings, Bilbo was more than frazzled and very much thankful to be in a city that held no dangers. Or, at the very least, it held no dangers such as trolls, goblins, or giant spiders. Sitting at a table in one of Dale's many inns with Gandalf, enjoying a nice supper, Bilbo felt relieved at having survived the journey.

Yet he also felt at a loss. Tomorrow, Gandalf would escort him to the Lonely Mountain and he would meet Thorin, son of Thrain, soon to be King Under the Mountain and husband. His husband. Just thinking about it made his stomach churn and toil and caused his face to pale. He never thought he would ever get married, let alone to a dwarf prince about to be crowned king. And he had always believed that he would live and die alone, just as he had always believed that the tale of Hollis Baggins was only a story.

"Tomorrow, we will reach Erebor," Gandalf said, interrupting Bilbo's deep musings. Sitting up in his chair, Bilbo clears his throat before answering.

"Yes, I-I suppose we will," he replied. Gandalf's bright blue eyes watched him and it made the hobbit squirm.

"I know that things will be hard for you, Bilbo. Being forced from one home and into a place that won't seem like home at first can be quite unnerving and upsetting."

Bilbo nodded, thinking to himself how much on an understatement that was. He hadn't even be inside the Lonely Mountain; he hadn't even met Thorin, but already he felt lost and alone and homesick. "Yes, it…it very much is."

"Just remember my previous words: you will be a member of the royal family and just because you're a hobbit doesn't mean you're beneath Thorin in any way," Gandalf stated firmly. Then his expression softened and he gave Bilbo a smile. "You can be very stubborn yourself, Bilbo Baggins. It's possible that your stubbornness could match Thorin's perfectly, if not outshine him all together."

Bilbo chuckled humorlessly. "But I doubt I'll be very stubborn. From what you've told me, Thorin is not one to be trifled with."

"Well, he is a skilled swordsman and a strong dwarf whose stubbornness and pride can blind him to all reason and logic. He will soon be the King Under the Mountain," Gandalf admitted. "However, you will be his consort and I believe that he will listen to you."

"L-listen? To me? Not m-me!" Bilbo stuttered. He could hardly believe such a thing.

"Yes, you. Believe it or not, but you have great potential, potential that you don't even realize yourself. You will change things," Gandalf said with a certainty that made Bilbo's stomach clench. He highly doubted that he, a mere hobbit, could change anything, especially within a dwarven kingdom.

"I wish I could believe you, Gandalf, but I don't think that I'll be able to change anything," Bilbo said softly. Gandalf chuckled.

"In time, I believe you will find that you already have."

~…~

Thorin was not nervous. He was a prince, soon to be king, and he was a skilled fighter. Skilled fighters and soon-to-be kings didn't get nervous. If anything, he was apprehensive and uncertain. After all, the union between himself and the hobbit would affect his people and he didn't want to put them in jeopardy. However, the life bond between the Line of Durin and the Baggins of the Shire had been in place for far too long and it needed to be rectified. It could not remain and continue to strength as time wore on. As he was about to be king, Thorin felt that it was time he did something about it.

The life bond his line owed to the Baggins family had been on his mind ever since he was told the story as a young dwarf. His father, Thrain, had told him of if, as his father before him, Thror, had told him. He remembered that his father had been very serious and grave as he told Thorin the story and that it was the responsibility of every heir to the throne to at least consider paying the debt. However, Thrain had also told him that hobbits were not like dwarves and that, really, they had to place in Erebor. That was why, as he had explained, he hadn't paid the debt himself. Thorin wasn't sure how much truth was in that, but he never questioned his father's decision to not pay it.

It was highly unusual for dwarves to marry outside of their own and that applied even more so to the royal family. But Thorin didn't want the life debt to remain in place; a life debt was a very serious and grave thing to owe, especially for so long. To him, it made perfect sense to act upon it and take the hobbit, Bilbo Baggins, as his consort. Gandalf merely reassured him that he was on the right path.

Oh, Thorin knew that there was gossip going around. There always way, for dwarves liked to talk when they ate and drank merrily. He wasn't deaf nor was he blind, and he knew that both of his nephews were worried about him and believed that the wizard had put him up to it. Fili and Kili were, if nothing else, loyal to him and cared for him deeply, so he understood their concern. His nephews weren't the only ones who were worried about him.

Balin had also inquired if Thorin had thought this through, which he had. He had made his decision and he was at peace with it, even though he stayed up late at night wondering if he had made the right decision after all. Even Dwalin had commented that the bags under his eyes had bags, for which he received a glare. But he had been right; Thorin did not look well rested. But then again, he wasn't. Aside from the hobbit, he was worried about his father, Thrain. His father was about to pass away. From what the healers had told him, he had a day, maybe two at the most, left. Being as sick as he was, Thrain was no longer ruler of Erebor. Thorin had taken his place, even though he would not be king officially until the marriage ceremony tomorrow.

Tomorrow…

He would meet his consort, the hobbit, Bilbo Baggins, tomorrow for the first time. Then, they would be wed and he would take the throne as the King of Erebor. No, Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, was not nervous. Deep down, he was terrified.


	6. V

~…~

V

~…~

Bilbo hardly slept.

How could he when he'd be meeting Thorin in just a few short hours and then marrying him later on? It had him tossing and turning before he was even tired enough to close his eyes and sleep. Even when he did manage to fall asleep, it wasn't restful at all due to the nightmare he had had. Oh, it had been a dreadful nightmare, one that involved fire and burning and dwarves and men and elves fighting. He couldn't make sense of it and he couldn't remember much of it when he woke up, for which he was thankful.

If he were being honest, Bilbo was more than thankful that he couldn't remember the nightmare. His mind was already preoccupied with the fact that he'd be marrying a dwarf king very soon and all because of a life debt that he hadn't believed in since he was a young hobbit. Not only that, but, somehow, he would have to make Erebor his home. How he was going to accomplish that, he didn't know. Bilbo was certain that most of the dwarves would be a little hesitant to approach him, what with him being a hobbit and not a dwarf. Although he had little knowledge of dwarves, he was sure that he would be seen as an outsider for quite some time, perhaps all his life as dwarves did outlive hobbits by many years.

His stomach was a jumbled mess of knots and twists and butterflies. All Bilbo wanted to do was get this…this consort business out of the way. Actually, that wasn't quite right. What he really wanted, truly desired with all of his heart, was to go back home to Bag End and his comfortable, familiar hobbit hole. He wished will his entire being that the life debt had never existed and that Hollis Baggins had never saved Taegan, son of Thane. But, he knew that there was no turning back and returning home; he had known that since he had first stepped foot out of his house.

Bilbo didn't know if he would be the most pleasant person to be around that night. He was far beyond nervous and his stomach was cramping painfully. His head was pounding from lack of sleep and a horrendous headache. When he tried to dress himself, his hands and fingers shook and it took him far longer than what was necessary to get dressed. Breakfast was completely out of the question; while Bilbo was hungry, he knew for certain that his stomach wasn't strong enough to handle any food of any kind. So, he went without.

"Why Bilbo, you look a fright!" Gandalf told him as they met in the hallway. Bilbo knew that it wasn't the most polite thing to do, but he wanted to clobber the wizard for saying such a rude thing.

"I'm afraid that I got little sleep last night, Gandalf. And this…this…" Bilbo took a calm, steady breath. Or, at least he tried to. It didn't work out unfortunately. "…this…well, today…" That was really all his mind could produce. He blamed the jumbled mess he was in on his nerves, anxiety, and lack of sleep.

"Ah yes. Today will prove to be a most trying day for all of us. Add nightmares into the mix and I can very well see why you aren't as chipper," Gandalf said as they made their way down the wooden steps of the inn and into the main room.

"It was a mere nightmare; nothing serious or anything that I can't handle. And how did you know about that anyway?" Gandalf chuckled.

"My dear Bilbo, anyone could tell that you were having a nightmare just by listening to your screams," he answered. At that, Bilbo paled.

"I…I was s-screaming? That loudly? I didn't think…I thought that…"

"Yes, well, it's quite all right, given the circumstances. After all, today is a very big day. Breakfast?" Gandalf asked. Just the smell of food made Bilbo's stomach churn and toil.

"N-No. Thank you, but no. Honestly, I just…I just want to get this over with as quickly as possible…please," Bilbo stated firmly. Well, he tried to. All of his stuttering and with his voice becoming too high pitched on a few words made that quite an impossible feat.

"Very well then. Let us be off. It won't take us very long to reach the Gates of Erebor," Gandalf said and they left the inn.

"Will there be anyone to meet us at the Gates?" Bilbo asked him as they made their way towards the edge of the city and towards the Lonely Mountain.

"I had hoped that we would meet them here, but no matter. After all, you are the one who will be the King's Consort, a member of the royal family, and an important figure. For someone so important, it would be seen as an insult to not make sure you have protection while being escorted to the soon to be king," Gandalf explained.

"Aye, which is why we're meetin' you here," said a voice that Bilbo didn't recognize. He looked up at saw that a dwarf, one with a bald head with tattoos all over it and, well, the rest of his body, standing in the middle of the street. On his left was a dwarf with graying hair and a fancy beard and on his right was a rather young looking dwarf with a knitted scarf wrapped around his neck.

"Ah, Dwalin. How very nice to see you," Gandalf said, a smile in his voice and on his face. "And I see you've brought Dori and Ori with you."

"Aye," Dwalin said again. "There are three patrols going on right now, making sure that the road to the Mountain is safe. We three are to bring ye directly to the throne room."

"Well, I am glad that Thorin learned something from Thrain, even if it was only about taking precautions," Gandalf said softly to himself. He gestured to Bilbo and said, "This is Bilbo Baggins, the descendent of Hollis Baggins. Bilbo, this is Dwalin, that's Dori and that's Ori."

"P-Pleased to meet you," Bilbo managed to say, trying his best to be polite and courteous. How well he managed, he didn't know.

"Dwalin, at your service," the bald dwarf said with a slight bow.

"Dori at your service, Mister Baggins," Dori said with his own bow.

"Pleased to meet you, Master Baggins," Ori said, bowing. "Ori, at your service."

"Now that we have all been properly introduced, shall we be going?" Gandalf asked.

"Indeed, we shall. Our King is excepting us," Dwalin said. They made their way along the main road of Dale, the one that lead to the Gates of Erebor.

"Tell me, Dwalin, how is Thrain?" Gandalf asked, his voice thick with worry and sadness.

"Passed away early this morning," Dwalin answered.

"I see…" Gandalf muttered softly. No one spoke much after that and all Bilbo could think of was the pounding in his head and how his entire life was about to change forever very, very soon.

~…~

Erebor's throne room was as opulent and magnificent as Bilbo supposed any throne room out to be. It was lavishly decorated and large, with gold trimmings and fixtures and gems and jewels embedded in statutes and everywhere else. And sitting on the throne near the back of the room was Thorin, son of Thrain.

He was just like the dwarf Bilbo had seen in his dream the night Gandalf told him that the story of Hollis Baggins was true. Thorin had black hair with a few streaks of grey in them and blue eyes that seemed to see right through him while at the same time blazing into his very soul, his very being. Dressed in blue, which only flattered him and helped make him appear even more regal and majestic, Thorin was quite handsome for a dwarf. If Bilbo was being honest with himself, Thorin was quite handsome period. There was something about him – and Bilbo didn't know what that something was – that felt drawn to the dwarven king, that wanted to gain his respect and his approval. Bilbo had to admit that he was in awe of Thorin. Much like Lord Elrond, Thorin seemed to exude power and authority and was a king in every single way. Aside from that, however, Bilbo was intimidated and even somewhat frightened by the dwarf king.

"Thorin Oakenshield, I present to you Bilbo Baggins. Bilbo, this is Thorin, son of Thrain," Gandalf said, a smile on his face as he presented Bilbo to Thorin. He couldn't help but shift uncomfortably under the king's gaze.

It wasn't Thorin's gaze alone that made him so very uncomfortable and wishing that this nonsense had been passed to another of his kin and not himself. Every single dwarf in the throne room was looking at him, some with kind, yet curious gazes while others peered down their noses at him. And not solely because they were taller than he was either. Bilbo wasn't going to lie to himself; he had been forewarned and had known that this would happen, but that didn't make any easier for him to deal with. He was miles away from home and everything that had been near and dear to him; was it necessary for them to remind him that he was, more than likely, unwelcomed here?

"So this is the hobbit," came Thorin's voice and oh, did it send shivers all along Bilbo's smaller body! It was strong and commanding, with pride etched into it.

"Y-yes, I, ah, supposed that I…am," Bilbo said, his voice trembling a bit. A white haired dwarf who stood on Thorin's left smiled warmly at him and although that did help cease him a little, it wasn't enough.

As Thorin stared at him, Bilbo took the time to study the dwarf king. His body was tense and rigid, as though it were impossible for him to relax. Surely, the throne he was sitting on couldn't have been all that comfortable for it looked as though it were made of stone or rock or something. He had bags under his eyes and he looked tired, something that Bilbo could easily relate to. Other than that, he appeared fine and every bit the king that he was about to be crowned later that evening, which Bilbo wasn't exactly looking forward to. It would be after their own marriage ceremony, which Bilbo was dreading very much for after that, he would forever be bound to Thorin until the day he died.

"Very well then. Balin?" Thorin addressed the white haired dwarf standing next to him.

"Yes, my king?" he replied. Bilbo couldn't help but think, even for a very brief second, that he would come to like Balin.

"Would you escort Mister Baggins to his room?" Thorin asked, almost the command was obvious.

"Of course." Balin strode towards Bilbo and gave him a smile. "Come along, laddie. Let's get you situated before the ceremony, yes?"

"Y-yes, of course. Thank you." Bilbo was stirred away from Thorin and Gandalf, who gave him a small smile, and was led towards one of a few doorways in the throne room.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Master Baggins. You have been on Thorin's mind for some time now," Balin said as they left the throne room and headed towards a flight of stairs.

"I…I have?" Bilbo squeaked.

"Well, more along the lines of the life debt has been on his time, but it's basically the same, more or less," Balin admitted, still smiling warmly at him. "We'll have to get you ready for the marriage ceremony."

"O-oh…" was all Bilbo could say.

What else was there to say, really? He was alone. There was no one in Erebor, aside from Gandalf, that he knew very well. There was no one for him to confide to. And not even Gandalf would stay here forever; he was bond to leave sooner rather than later. Bilbo tried to believe that he'd feel really lonely then, but the truth was that he felt incredibly lonely now. Thorin hadn't welcomed him warmly and Bilbo was very much intimidated by him.

This was going to be a very long night.


	7. VI

~…~

VI

~…~

Bilbo wasn't sure what was worse: the loud, obnoxious noise or the dwarves' manners. The noise just made it hard to hear and caused a rather painful headache while the manners, or lack thereof, were just horrifying. Honestly, as if Bilbo didn't have enough stress. However, he understood that the dwarves were merry making in celebration of his and Thorin's wedding and the coronation that followed right afterwards (and Bilbo wouldn't think about how handsome Thorin looked, even if he didn't muster a smile to save his life, not even a fake one). Both ceremonies had been extravagant with a lot of music and cheering. Now, the songs were being sung by drunken dwarves and off key too, which didn't help his headache in the slightest.

Large portions of food and ale covered all of the tables and loud bursts of laughter resonated throughout Erebor's vast dining hall. Many of the dwarves seemed happy and a vast number of them had congratulated Thorin, the now official King Under the Mountain, at least some point during the night. Although Thorin looked as somber and serious as he had when Bilbo first met him, he didn't seem as tense and his eyes even lit up when a few dwarves, such as Balin and Dwalin, had congratulated. And throughout all of it, Bilbo felt like an outsider.

And he was an outsider. He was the only hobbit in Erebor. Almost everyone within the Lonely Mountain, aside from Gandalf, Balin, and Ori, almost everyone gave him a curious glance and moved on or scrutinized him and huffed before walking away. Bilbo felt more than slightly insulted, but he was more intimidated and afraid and worried and…and…completely and utterly lost. Balin was sitting at the far end of the table on Thorin's left, next to his brother Dwalin. Ori was sitting at another table in the dining hall with Dori and his other brother, Nori (who Bilbo only knew the name of because Balin had asked him to try not to cause any mischief). And Gandalf…well, the wizard had been flitting from table to table, talking to various dwarves and chuckling at their antics.

Bilbo found it very hard to carry on or laugh or even muster a smile. He was sure that when he did he must have looked like he was in pain or something. It didn't help that his stomach was still toiling and churning, making it impossible for him to eat anything for fear that he would vomit all over his best clothes and the table. That would make the best impression imaginable. And he had a feeling that Thorin and practically every dwarf in the mountain had a low opinion of him already. Not for the first time that night did Bilbo wish he could close his eyes and disappear.

It didn't help that Thorin barely talked to him. Perhaps Bilbo was merely over thinking things and adding more stress than necessary, but he was a bit worried that he had said or done something that insulted the newly crowned king. Aside from the words the king had spoken to him during their marriage ceremony, he hadn't said a word to the hobbit. Actually, he barely even looked at him and for some odd reason that made Bilbo feel even worse. Oh yes, he had expected to be treated like an outsider and an intruder by many dwarves, but he had hoped, foolishly and in a moment of panic, that Thorin would show him…something. Compassion? Understanding? In all honesty, Bilbo didn't know what he had expected Thorin to show him; he just knew that the dwarf king had yet to show him it.

A yawn escaped him and Bilbo wondered how long the celebration had been going on. It felt as though forever and a day had passed even though he knew that it was probably more like a few hours, give or take. He knew that it was futile and foolish to wish to return to the Shire and Bag End, so Bilbo wished for the next best thing: his own room, the one that Balin had taken him to. From what the white haired dwarf had told him, that room would be Bilbo's until he felt comfortable moving into Thorin's room. Personally, Bilbo highly doubted that he'd ever move into Thorin's room even if he wanted to. Their marriage was one of convenience, not love. They didn't know each other; they didn't even like each other! Moving into Thorin's room was something that was never going to happen. And that was the end of that.

From beside him on his left, Thorin stood up. He was everything a king ought to be: confident, majestic, and powerful. His blue eyes took in everything. His gait held the utmost authority and vast amounts of strength. There was no one in the dining hall who would dare oppose him or wished him ill will. He absolutely terrified Bilbo to no end.

"Come, Halfling," Thorin said, his voice deep and rough. It sent shivers all along Bilbo's body. He glanced down briefly at Bilbo before he looked away.

Nodding, feeling his stomach drop and his throat go bone dry, Bilbo stood up and followed Thorin. They walked along the table, Thorin's nephews, Fili and Kili, and past Balin and Dwalin. A few eyes watched them, broad, knowing grins on their faces, but most of the dwarves in the dining hall were too busy eating, drinking, talking, and laughing to notice their departure, for which Bilbo was very thankful for.

He wasn't as foolish as he seemed. Bilbo knew what was on Thorin's mind. After all, they were married now and, at some point, they would have to consummate the marriage. But just the mere thought of it made Bilbo blush up to his ears and caused his palms to sweat and his insides to drown in nervousness and fear. As a respectable hobbit, a Baggins nonetheless, Bilbo had never even so much as kissed another person let alone even think about becoming intimate with someone. Call him a hopeless romantic, but he believed that such acts should only occur when one was in love.

Bilbo Baggins was not in love.

Neither was Thorin.

There was no love between them, not now and probably not ever. And if he didn't love Thorin then Bilbo was not going to make love with him. End of discussion. He didn't care if Thorin was now the King of Erebor nor did he care if refusing would be seen as rude. This was something he felt very strongly about and no one, king or otherwise, was going to make him do…well, that.

So, when Thorin opened one of the doors to his bedroom, Bilbo was even more a nervous wreck than ever, but his mind was made up. The Dwarf King stepped aside and held the door open for him. Not wanting to have others listening to their discussion in the hallway, Bilbo entered Thorin's room. It was larger than his own obviously, but it was nice and well kept. The bed was huge and looked like it could swallow him up; with all of the blankets and furs on it, he was very sure that if he sat down, he would never be found again. There was a nice fire going in the fireplace, but Bilbo couldn't help but shiver. His heart was pounding in his chest so loudly that he knew there was no way that Thorin could not have heard it.

And then the door closed with a deafening thud.

Turning around, Bilbo realized that Thorin was studying him, his expression unreadable and his eyes blank. The dwarf stepped forward and, instinctively, the hobbit stepped back. He paled, his eyes as wide as saucers, and he knew that he had to speak up and prevent Thorin from touching him. For as handsome as Thorin was, for as majestic and strong as he seemed, he was not a beloved of Bilbo's. As he told himself before, their marriage was one of convenience and not love, and as he didn't love Thorin, son of Thrain, he refused to be laid on the king's bed and make love to him.

"S-stop," Bilbo said, his voice coming out strong and clear despite his thundering heartbeat and the nervousness twisting his stomach into a gigantic mess. Surprisingly, Thorin stopped.

"We are married now, Halfling," Thorin stated simply. Oh, how Bilbo wanted to roll his eyes at the King Under the Mountain! He didn't though. Instead, he merely stared back at the dwarf and his expressionless countenance.

"Y-yes, I…I know that. Oh, how I…know that," Bilbo replied. "But…that doesn't mean that I love you. A-and, if I don't l-love you, then…then I refuse to do…ah, whatever you're thinking about."

Thorin stood as still as a statute and just as quiet. His blue eyes watched Bilbo and, for a split second, the hobbit thought he saw surprise and anger flash in them. That didn't make him feel any better – actually, his knees almost gave way – but he held his ground. They weren't in love. They probably never would be. And Bilbo wasn't going to degrade himself and betray his heart by allowing the king before him to take him so cruelly, so heartlessly. Perhaps if they had been in love, it would be different. But they weren't and that made all the difference. Bilbo refused to be used and cast aside, only thought of and touched and loved whenever his husband (how strange it was to think of Thorin as his husband!) saw fit.

Bilbo Baggins was a respectable hobbit!

He was a Baggins of Bag End and he would be treated as such, whether Thorin liked it or not.

"I-I'm sorry, but I…I had to state my opinion on the matter," Bilbo said when Thorin failed to speak. "I hold no love for you nor you for me and as such, I will not…I refuse to…to m-make love to you." Again, Thorin scrutinized him and Bilbo felt very much like a lowly insect. After what felt like forever, the Dwarf King finally spoke.

"Very well. If that is how you feel, then we are done here," Thorin stated firmly, his voice holding no room for argument. He opened the door to his room and Bilbo allowed himself to relax, albeit just a little. "You know the way to your own chamber?"

"Y-yes. Balin showed me earlier," Bilbo answered him. His bedroom was not far from Thorin's, as a matter of fact.

"Good night, Halfling," Thorin bade him as Bilbo walked briskly past him and out of his chamber.

"G-Good night…my king," Bilbo said softly, his voice cracking. Thorin closed the door behind him and the sound reverberated throughout the hallway.

The sound echoed down into Bilbo's very core and he found himself shaking and petrified as he walked towards his bedroom. It seemed to take him a century before he made it to his room and all Bilbo could think about was how lonely he felt and was and how much he had probably just insulted the king. With his heart still pounding away, Bilbo entered his bedroom and, numbly, walked over to his bed. He collapsed on top of it and curled as tight as he could into a ball. His shoulders shook as hot tears fell from his eyes and rolled down his cheeks.

That was the first night Bilbo cried himself to sleep in Erebor, but it would not be his last.


	8. VII

~…~

VII

~…~

Thorin had never been nervous in his life.

As the crown prince, now king, he knew what was expected of him. He had been training to become the King Under the Mountain since he was a young dwarf. And when his father, Thrain, had first come down with his illness, it was Thorin who made sure everything within Erebor ran smoothly. Of course, it wasn't just him; Balin provided a lot of insight and assistance, just as he always had. Fili and Kili were kept mostly in control and out of the way by Dwalin when urgent and important matters arose.

Therefore, Thorin had very little to be nervous about when it came to ruling his kingdom. He hadn't even been nervous when his father had passed away just the previous morning and had to order a proper tomb to be constructed at once. Truthfully, he had believed that he would have had more time to craft a tomb suitable for his father, but the illness was too swift and too powerful and his father not so much so.

But he was nervous during his marriage ceremony and his coronation, not to mention the entire evening until Bilbo had flat out told him that they wouldn't be doing… Well, that they wouldn't be doing much of anything. Thorin was very relieved by that. As the crown prince, he never had any time for such frivolities as romance or intimacy and, as such, he was particularly skilled in either of them. Not that that meant that he didn't know what to do, because he did, but he had never done it.

Even if he had had the time or opportunity, with whom would he have done such things with? Yes, there were a few dwarves who had been interested in him, if not for him then for what and who he was. But Thorin hadn't wanted any of them. Why would he? None of them knew him or would ever love him, so there was no point.

Now, however, he was married. He had barely been married for a day and he was at a complete loss as to what to do. When the issue of the life debt first started plaguing Thorin's mind, the dwarf king thought that it'd be a matter of business if he ever went through with it. As the years passed, he started to seriously consider it. And then Gandalf showed up and encouraged him to wed Bilbo Baggins, insisting that Thorin needed to trust him. So he did and Thorin still believed, and still does, that the marriage would be strictly convenient. It would get rid of the life debt that had haunted the Line of Durin and prevent the bond from growing stronger.

What Thorin hadn't counted on was Bilbo Baggins himself.

Gandalf had told him the hobbit's name and had vaguely described him. Aside from the curiosity he felt at having never seen a Halfling before, Thorin didn't really feel much of anything towards Mister Baggins. He didn't like him nor did he dislike him. And then Bilbo entered the throne room with Gandalf, Dwalin, Dori, and Ori. When his eyes rested upon the hobbit, Thorin couldn't help but think that the poor creature looked so lost and alone and out of place. While he wasn't lost, alone, or out of place in Erebor, he understood that being forced to move away from home must not have been easy. But it wasn't just that. For some unexplainable reason, Thorin had found that he liked Bilbo Baggins. There was something about him that made the king sit up straighter on his throne and try to look impressive.

For once, Thorin found himself wanting to impress someone, even if that someone was a hobbit and not a dwarf of the Lonely Mountain. It confused him which only made him irritated and annoyed. He had expected the marriage between him and Mister Baggins to be convenient; he hadn't expected all of these strange feelings. Fear; uncertainty; hope; longing; and many other emotions plagued him. They all confused him and made everything even worse. A king was never afraid or uncertain, nor did he hope for anything other than the protection and prosperity of his people or the longing for things to continue to be in the dwarves' good favor.

These emotions, these feelings, didn't make much sense to him, so Thorin did what he did best. He pushed them aside and focused on keeping Erebor thriving and safe. Even though he told himself that, he still couldn't stop feeling on edge, anxious, and nervous about being married to the hobbit. Thorin was frustrated and confused and had no idea what to think or do when in regards to the hobbit. His hobbit.

With more will power and determination than before, Thorin pushed his consort out of his mind and focused on overseeing how the mining went. It was going to be a long day.

~…~

Bilbo had no idea what to do. It had been a few days since he arrived at Erebor and became Thorin's consort officially. The day after the wedding ceremony and the coronation he had holed up inside his room, reading one of the few books he had brought with him. When he had tried of that, he unpacked what few belongings he had been able to bring with him and tried to make himself comfortable.

He was never comfortable outside of his room and he still wasn't entirely at home there.

More than likely, he probably never would be. The only time he ever left his room was to stretch his legs and for meals. Bilbo always sat at the table designated for the members of the royal family and always on Thorin's right. Fili and Kili, Thorin's nephews, never stayed at the table for too long; they usually always went off to talk to their friends and carry on like young dwarves often did. Balin was only one of two people Bilbo felt comfortable talking to, now that Gandalf had left to attend to other matters. Ori was the other one, but as he ate with his brothers and had no business at the royal table (even though Bilbo wished he had). But even with Balin to talk to, Bilbo still remained relatively quiet. What was there for him to say without sounding like a fool?

A knock came to his bedroom door, jarring Bilbo from his thoughts. Getting up out of the chair that sat at his desk (he was very much pleased to find a desk in his room!), he made his way over to the door and opened it. Very surprisingly, Fili and Kili stood there with the same mischievous grins on their faces that they always wore. Now, from Bilbo had been told by Balin, they were good lads, but they were more focused pranks and fun; and considering that Fili was next in line for the throne, the hobbit couldn't exactly say he approved. However, they were only lads, although they were both older than him, and he supposed that they deserved to be rowdy and rambunctious since they only lived once.

"Mister Boggins!" Kili said, his smile widening and his dark eyes twinkling in mischief.

"That's Baggins, Kili," Bilbo corrected him softly.

"Of course it is, Mister Boggins," Fili said. "Anyway, we were wondering-"

"- since you're new to Erebor and all-" Kili injected.

"- if you'd like a tour," Fili ended.

Bilbo looked at the pair of them. While he hadn't known either of the boys very long, he knew that, more often than not, they were up to no good. He understood that; after all, he had been a young hobbit himself and had had a fondness for mischief and stirring up trouble (Annabel Brandybuck still hadn't forgiven him for pouring honey in her hair when they were both a mere twelve years of age). But now, he was older and far more mature than that. Not only that, but he was also a Baggins and the Baggins' knew better than to court trouble. So, with his mind made up, he opened his mouth to very politely, yet firmly, tell Fili and Kili no.

"That was very thoughtful of you both. Really, it was. However, I'm just not so sure that taking a tour with you would be a good idea," Bilbo told them as gently and kindly as he could. Both Fili and Kili's smiles vanished and frowny pouts replaced them along with wide, sad eyes.

"What's that?!" Fili asked.

"No? Why would you say no?" Kili asked. Bilbo mentally took a deep breath before he explained.

"Well, you see boys, I'm afraid that I…that I…uh…." Before he even started talking, both Fili and Kili's bottom lips quivered and their eyes shone with unshed tears. With each word he said, they looked even more heartbroken and sad. Seeing them look so sad and pitiful tugged a Bilbo's heart, it truly did. So, he sighed heavily before he grabbed his over coat.

"Oh, all right. I don't suppose that much harm could come from touring the kingdom," Bilbo said as he stepped out of his room and closed his door. Both Fili and Kili were grinning their wide grins away and they sandwiched the little hobbit in between them as they walked down the corridor.

"Excellent! We knew you'd say yes!" Fili exclaimed proudly.

"Indeed, we did! And, you know, it was Thorin's suggestion in the first place," Fili added.

"I-it was, was it?" Bilbo asked. His relationship with the dwarf king was still…well….not too very good, to say the least. Oh, he knew it could be better, but it could also be worse.

"Yes, it was. He said you needed to know your way around so that he wouldn't have to take time out of his day to rescue you," Kili said, his grin widening.

"Er, Uncle didn't say that exactly," Fili told Bilbo, sending his brother a very slightly, barely noticeable glare. But Kili merely shrugged it off.

"He implied it then. What difference does it make?" the dark haired dwarf asked his brother.

Bilbo wasn't sure what hurt him most: the fact that Thorin could barely talk to him yet he talked to others about him or the fact that Thorin didn't think he could defend himself. He wasn't a dwarf nor was he an elf or a son of man; weaponry and combat were all but unknown to him. All that he knew about fighting and war he had learn in his books and nothing else. Never before had he actually seen a sword up close or even wielded anything more threatening than a kitchen knife. However, he was smart and he was clever enough to know when he was in danger and how to retrace his steps back to the beginning of a maze if he ever got lost.

Letting his anger get the best of him, Bilbo straightened his spine and held his chin up high in pride. His anger blazed brightly in his eyes and his words stopped the two young dwarves' bickering.

"As much as I appreciate your uncle's concern, it is unnecessary. I am more than capable of taking care of myself. I have no need to be sheltered or coddled like an infant and you can tell him so yourselves if you so wish," Bilbo said in a cold voice. "Now, let's get this tour over and done with, shall we?" He began walking, leaving the two stunned dwarves staring at his back.

They shared a look, smirked, and then rushed to catch up to the mad hobbit. Fili and Kill both wrapped an arm around Bilbo's shoulder and the hobbit was too mad to even notice and brush them off.

"You know, it would make Uncle very mad if we caused an upset in the kitchens," Fili said nonchalantly while he flashed a mischievous look at his brother.

"Indeed he would. Remember the last time we caused havoc in the kitchens? Bombur was fuming almost as bad as Uncle," Kili said.

"No one fumes as bad as Uncle," Fili told him.

"He'd be in a right state if he caused such a great disturbance that Dwalin had to fetch him from his precious rounds," Fili said.

"Fine. Let's go to the kitchens," Bilbo said. Fili and Kili shared a victorious look before they practically dragged Bilbo to the kitchens.


	9. VIII

~…~

VIII

~…~

"I don't even know where to begin," Thorin all but growled, his voice low and menacing, his anger obvious.

He was pacing angrily back and forth, trying his best to remain calm and reasonable. Naturally, he wasn't fairing too well. How could he be calm and reasonable when his nephews and his consort had all but set fire to the kitchens as well as Bombur's braided beard? Thankfully though, Bombur and his beard were in one piece and mostly unscathed. In his efforts to keep his beard from being burnt even a little, Bombur had suffered from a few severe burns. Granted, Fili, Kili and Bilbo had tried to put the fires out by themselves, but with angry and upset dwarves running about, it was next to impossible.

The fires were put out eventually and they only managed to ruin most of the kitchens. From what Thorin had been told Fili and Kili were the ones who caused most of the chaos. They're known for being troublemakers and he had received reports all day that the pair of them had been pulling all sorts of pranks and that they had been accompanied by the hobbit. Thorin didn't know what was worse: his nephews, blood of his blood and of the Line of Durin, causing so much chaos or his consort.

Thorin didn't understand why the hobbit would join his nephews. While he may not know Bilbo very well, hardly at all as a matter of fact, he had believed that the Halfling would have had more sense than that. Perhaps Fili and Kili had talked him into it; they were known for getting their way by almost any means necessary. However, that didn't excuse what the three of them had done. It had taken enormous amounts of self control to not throttle all three of them to a bloody pulp. Had he not been the King Under the Mountain, Thorin would have raged and shouted loud enough for the people in Dale to hear him. But Balin had kept him in check as he had done for almost all of Thorin's life.

"You know better than to pull something like this!" Thorin roared, his blue eyes skewering his nephews. They squirmed and look very uncomfortable and guilty. "How many times have I told you? And yet you deliberately disobey me!"

"But it wasn't our fault!" Kili protested, looking angry and terrified all at once. Thorin pierced him with a look that would have made any orc or goblin run for their life.

"Is that so?" Thorin asked coolly, his voice trembling ever so slightly with rage. "Then whose fault is it then? The Halfling's?" At that, Bilbo jerked up and glare at him, anger apparent in his eyes and on his face. How dare he have the nerve to be angry when he had caused such havoc?

"As a matter of fact, yes it is!" Kili said loudly, his voice quivering only slightly. Thorin did not know what exactly to say to that. He certainly hadn't been expecting that. Balin gave the young dwarf a surprised look, his eyes going to Bilbo's before resting on Kili.

"How so, laddie?" Balin asked while at the same time Bilbo squeaked.

"Don't you dare blame this on me, you…you….insufferable dwarf!" Bilbo said, his eyes glaring at Kili. That only made Thorin's youngest nephew cringe and he looked away. Interesting. Not many could cause Kili to back down so easily. But now was hardly the time to contemplate that!

"All we wanted to do was give Mister Boggins a tour. That's all," Fili told Thorin, looking warily at Bilbo, who was fuming and glaring at both Fili and Kili.

"Like you said, Uncle," Kili injected before Bilbo sent him another glare. That confused Thorin a bit. He had told them to give the hobbit a tour, to victimize the dwarves who worked in the kitchens, and to almost burn them down? No, Thorin was more than positive that he had never told his nephews to do that. What he had told them was…

"You said that Mister Boggins needed to know his way around Erebor because you couldn't hold his hand and come to his rescue if he fell down a hole," Kili said.

Thorin sighed inwardly. Yes, he had said…something to that effect, but he hadn't thought that his nephews had been pay attention. They rarely ever did and he was well aware of that. Besides, it wasn't as though he had been mistaken. Bilbo hardly knew his way around and Thorin simply did not have the time to show him. There were other things, more important things, that he had to deal with. And none of it came down to the fact that he simply didn't know what to do or where he stood with his consort. Putting distance between them until he had sorted everything out had seemed like the best option at the time. But then again, not many things had been making sense to him lately.

"I…may have mentioned that he needed to know where he was going," Thorin conceded.

"And that's exactly why I went with them in the first place!" Bilbo stated firmly, still obviously angry. "But I-I-I never intended for things to get so…so horrible and for that I am truly sorry."

"And yet, they did, and you didn't stop them," Thorin growled, his blue eyes narrowed at the hobbit.

"Well, I wouldn't have even gone with them if you wouldn't have said that I needed a babysitter," Bilbo snapped.

"I didn't say you needed a babysitter. I said that you needed to know your way around. Why is that a bad thing?" Thorin demanded, stalking over to the Halfling. He was glared down at him and was met with an angry, defiant glare in turn.

"It's not, but I can find my way around on my own. I don't need any help nor do I need to be rescued, thank you very much," Bilbo said sharply. "I was more than content to stay in my room before your nephews came and brought up how concerned you were."

"What I say to my nephews is none of your concern, Halfling," Thorin spat, angrier than ever. Who was this hobbit to think he could question the king or be angry at him? "Besides, that's not of importance right now. What is is that you should have stopped Fili and Kili before-"

"I wasn't even paying attention to half of what they said or did thanks to you and your 'concern'. By the time I even realized what was going on, it was…well…er…" Bilbo trailed off, seemingly having lost his steam. "I tried to put the fires out…" he finished in a small, weak voice.

Thorin growled loudly, making Fili, Kili and Bilbo flinch and causing Balin to sigh heavily. Doing his best to keep his anger reigned in, which was a very difficult task for him all things considered at that point, he thought long and hard about what he was going to do with the three miscreants. He supposed that he could always put his nephews with Dwalin and have him handle their training from a good while. Although they liked Dwalin, they didn't like training under him; both Fili and Kili said that he was a slave driver, a harsh teacher, and downright brutal, and that was coming from two princling dwarves. Perhaps he would put them with Dwalin for a month or two, maybe even more; that would get the message drilled into their thick skulls. As for the hobbit…

He didn't honestly believe that the Halfling would harm someone outright. Actually, Thorin didn't think he'd even have the nerve to swat a fly. However, that didn't excuse his actions or lack thereof in regards to the horrible, almost life threatening mess his nephews created. But what could he do or say to his consort that would ensure something like this wouldn't happen again? Balin stepped up beside him and spoke softly.

"Sire, from what I saw and was told, Master Baggins speaks the truth. He did, indeed, attempt to put the fire outs. That must count for something," the elderly dwarf said. Thorin pondered his words for a moment before he responded.

"What would you have me do then, Balin?" he asked.

"Perhaps, instead of a punishment, it would do good to allow him to accompany you on your rounds and during Council meetings and the like. Master Baggins is the Royal Consort. It would make sense for him to be aware and to know how much responsibility that position entails as well as yours," Balin answered him. Thorin sighed. His friend and advisor had a valid point and he knew it. They both knew it.

"Very well," he said and Balin gave him a smile.

"Fili! Kili!" Thorin snapped. Both of his nephews cringed and looked up at him with twin looks of terror on their faces. "Tomorrow morning you will report to Dwalin for training." They both groaned loudly.

"No, Uncle!" Fili cried.

"Anything but training with Mister Dwalin!" Kili protested.

"We'll do anythin' else!" Fili swore.

"But not that! Anything but that!" Kili finished for his older brother.

"We'll scrub the kitchens until they shine!" Fili promised.

"We'll scrub the Mountain from head to toe if we have to!" Kili declared.

"Enough!" Thorin shouted, silencing them and making them flinch again. "You don't have an option. This is something you will both do until such time as I feel you've learned your lesson." Before either of them could open their mouths, he shot them a glare. He then turned to the hobbit, who only managed to give him a half-hearted glare that didn't diminish the obvious guilt and regret written on his face.

"As for you, Halfling," Thorin said "As of tomorrow, you will be accompanying me on my rounds and at my meetings with the Council until you have a better understanding of Erebor and our ways."

"A-and what if I don't…don't want to?"

"Regardless of whether you want to or not, you are going to," Thorin instructed him. Even to his own ears he sounded a bit harsh, but he was at a complete loss when it came to the hobbit. He had been ever since he first laid eyes on him. His consort glared at him and his face turned red.

"You…you…you…!" he sputtered. "Dwarves! Just you…dwarves!" The Halfling stood up and stalked out of the chamber, huffing and puffing and muttering under his breath. Thorin himself felt a bit flushed and was still very angry at everything that had happened.

"I will take my leave now. Good night," Thorin said coolly as he too left the chamber. More than anything, he wanted to be alone for a good long while before he had to deal with anything else.

~…~

Fili and Kili stared after their uncle, mouths open and eyes wide. Then they turned and looked at each other before small smiles broke out on their faces. Well, that went far better than they had anticipated. Aside from being forced to endure Mister Dwalin's teachings for Aule only knew how long, things had faired pretty well. They turned and looked up at Balin, still grinning.

"So, Mister Balin, were the fires really as bad as you told Uncle?" Fili asked.

"Yes, were they? Because we had everything under control and we knew what we were doing," Kili said.

"Only Bombur had no idea what we were up to. The other kitchen workers knew when they first spotted us. It's not like they haven't had to deal with us before," Fili added.

"Well, laddies, you did give Bombur quite a fright and there was damage, but nothing that couldn't easily be mended or replaced. So, no, the fires were not as bad as Thorin or Master Baggins believe," Balin answered, his eyes shining with playful mischief. "But try not to give the poor hobbit a heart attack next time."

"Oh, honestly. Watching him run around and throwing a fit had been hilarious," Kili said, his grinning widening. "And we finally got Uncle and Mister Boggins to speak more than a few sentences to each other."

"Not only that, but they had their first fight," Fili said.

"Indeed they did. Although, perhaps next time you two should consider other methods of getting them to speak. Preferably methods that don't involve fire and mischief, as Thorin is not appreciative of either of them and would rather not have to deal with the pair of you," Balin advised, giving them a pointed look. Fili and Kili both nodded.

"Maybe next time we'll lock them in a room alone together," Fili suggested.

"Or have them bathe together," Kili said, wagging his eyebrows.

"Eh, perhaps one thing at a time, Kili. You know how Uncle is," Fili told his younger brother.

"Prudish, you mean?" Kili asked. Balin chuckled.

"It wouldn't be wise for him to hear you say that, laddie," the elderly dwarf said.

"Well, at least they're getting comfortable with each other," Fili said.

"Yes, and Mister Boggins looked quite pleased and happy whenever we told him about the library," Kili added.

"Perhaps we could suggest to Uncle that it would be a good idea to show Mister Boggins the library," Fili pondered. "It could be the first step to their courtship…"

"As if! You know how Uncle is. He'd rather deal with boring stuff like ruling and politics. He has no interest in love or things like that," Kili told his brother.

"You would be surprised, laddie," Balin told him. "Very surprised indeed…"


	10. IX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: My knowledge of Erebor and its surroundings are limited to only what I saw in The Hobbit. I apologize if I make any errors or mistakes about the layout of the Mountain and its surroundings.

~…~

IX

~…~

Bilbo had had quite enough of…of…of bloody dwarves to last him a life time!

For the past week or so he had accompanied Thorin on his rounds and had sat beside him during meetings with the Council and even between the men of Dale and a select number of elves - couriers from Thranduil. Thorin was quite the stubborn dwarf, even for dwarves, but Bilbo had realized on his first day attending the Council meetings that nothing was going to get accomplished at all. A few of the dwarves on the Council were even more stubborn than Thorin and that said a lot. Just listening to them bicker - some of them quite loudly for they were deaf or hard of hearing - gave him a headache. He had even been desperate enough to contemplate sneaking out of the meeting.

As a hobbit, Bilbo had the ability to move quietly and unseen if he ever desired to do so. Using his abilities to leave a Council meeting sounded like very good practice indeed (as well as much relief on his part). However, Gandalf must have told Thorin a little bit about hobbits, because just as he was about to sneak off, Thorin's blue eyes pierced him with a cool stare. It shook him enough that Bilbo remained seated even though he would've rather gouged his eyes out.

And that was just how he felt during a normal Council meeting. When the men from Dale joined them, it was a giant fiasco of tale telling and ale drinking. If Bilbo thought that nothing was accomplished when it was merely dwarves present, he was sadly mistaken. Men were much larger than dwarves, which only made the hobbit feeling like an ant. They were loud, more than a bit rude, and often poked fun at his height, for most had never seen a hobbit before. But that was nothing compared to the meetings with the elves.

It was no secret that Thorin despised elves with his entire being. At least, to Bilbo, it wasn't after the last meeting with the elves of Mirkwood. He had believed that he had seen Thorin angry when he had confronted his nephews and Bilbo after the Incident, as he was now calling it. Oh, he had been sorely mistaken. The glare the King Under the Mountain had given the elves would have killed any other man, elf, or dwarf. It even made Bilbo cringe and the glare wasn't even aimed at him. And the tone of his voice would freeze a lake ten times over. Thorin was so frightening and intimidating that even a few of the elves had flinched and looked nervous. They had a right to for Thorin truly was a force to reckon with.

But most of his strife had been with the meetings. Going on the rounds had been rather interesting, which surprised him immensely. Bilbo had seen everything, from the mines, to the forgeries, and the market… He had never realized just how vast the Lonely Mountain was until his first day accompanying Thorin. It astounded him and amazed him and he found his curiosity winning him over and compelling him to explore (without Fili and Kili of course). At the end of his first round, Thorin and Bilbo found Balin outside of the library (oh, how happy Bilbo had been when he had been told that there was a library!), having just finished helping Ori with a few documents that needed to be put in writing. From Bilbo had gathered, the library was Ori's domain and the young dwarf spent many hours reading and writing and drawing maps. Apparently, Ori was the Royal Scribe and was in charge of the documenting Council meetings and treaties and whatnot.

After that, they arrived at Bilbo's first Council meeting and that was when he had realized that nothing was going to get done during the meetings. So needless to say, he was more than exhausted by the end of the week, give or take a few days. And Thorin didn't make matters any better for him, both on the rounds or in the meetings. Very seldom did he talk or explain anything to Bilbo as they made their way about the mountain and even in the meetings. Actually, the only times he even looked at the hobbit was when he asked a stupid question or said something that the dwarf thought was stupid. It made Bilbo feel very self-conscious and he eventually stopped asking questions all together.

He did, however, meet a few dwarves who seemed rather nice and managed to stand out. Nori, who was Dori's younger brother and Ori's older brother and whose hair resembled a star, worked in the forgeries and had a knack for pick pocketing, among other things. But even so, he seemed nice enough and even smiled at Bilbo, although one glare from Thorin quickly snuffed out any friendliness coming from the dwarf. There was Bifur, who had an axe sticking out of his head and spoke only in Khuzdul, who seemed a bit strange and weary of the hobbit, but he answered Bilbo's question about the toy he was making, although Bilbo didn't understand what he had said. And then there was Bofur.

Bofur was Bombur's brother and Bifur's cousin and was very friendly and talkative. He surprised Bilbo at first, what with him reaching out to a stranger, a hobbit nonetheless, and one who didn't belong in Erebor. And he barely even flinched when Thorin sent him a glare; he merely greeted the king with the same tone that he gave Bilbo. They talked for a little while every time Thorin and Bilbo did their rounds and it was something Bilbo greatly looked forward to. Even though he was still a stranger and not a dwarf, Bofur seemed to like him. For the first time since arriving at Erebor, Bilbo thought that he could make a friend or an acquaintance and find some sliver of normalcy.

But above anything else, what Bilbo really wanted to see was the library. He had only managed a brief glimpse inside and hadn't been able to look through any of the books or scrolls or maps. Joining Thorin on his rounds and during meetings had kept Bilbo incredibly busy and very tired. After supper, he would retire to his chamber and practically collapse onto his bed, fast asleep before his head would even hit the pillow. So he hadn't even been able to visit the one place he had actually wanted to see. How Thorin managed it was beyond him, but Bilbo tried not to feel too sympathetic to the king's plight. To be honest, Bilbo was still a little angry at the fact that Thorin thought of him as some helpless child who needed his hand held wherever he went.

And that brought another thought to mind…

How long would he have to accompany Thorin on his rounds and during those dreadful meetings? Yes, Bilbo knew that he was Thorin's consort and all, but he wouldn't be much good in politics, especially dwarf politics. He was a hobbit and he liked simple things like cooking and gardening; he was ill suited to be a political figurehead. So what was the point in him attending the meetings? Going on the rounds he could understand, even if it did ignite his irritation at the Dwarf King, and he now had a better understanding of dwarves and how to find his way around. Surely his presence at the meetings wasn't necessary.

"Are you all right, laddie?" Balin asked him as they sat in the dining hall eating dinner.

It had been yet another long day and, honestly, Bilbo was sick and tired of dwarves. After yet another meeting with the Council - one that only progressed as far as knowing that renovations in the upper halls needed to be started sometime soon - he had had a horrible headache. The noise in the dining hall, yelling, laughing, and general talking, only made it worse. Not to mention that Thorin had been even worse today, making snide little remarks whenever Bilbo would try to say something to get the Council members to be more productive. What would it take for the man to understand that hobbits weren't nearly as unreasonable and irrational as dwarves were? Perhaps a hit on the head, which he would receive if he didn't start acting decently.

"No, Balin, I'm afraid that I'm not all right," Bilbo answered, annoyed and frustrated and just over all unhappy.

"What's wrong, Mr. Boggins?" Kili asked loudly, talking around his mouth full of food. Dwarves and their horrible manners!

"It's Baggins, Kili, not Boggins. And I've had a rough day and a headache to show for it," Bilbo said, sighing at the end of it. All he wanted to do was leave the dining hall and return to his room.

"Oin is the head healer in the infirmary. He'd be able to cure whatever ails ye, laddie," Balin told him, giving him a sympathetic nod.

"A headache will be no problem for Oin. He's seen far worse, I can assure you," Fili said loudly. That only made Bilbo wince and rub the right side of his temple.

"Hobbits are such dainty creatures," Thorin grumbled. "To think that things such as headaches would be so hard to manage."

Bilbo straightened up as he heard Thorin speak. Anger shot through his small body, but he sounded calm and collected when he spoke. "I think I'll go take a walk instead. I'm sure some fresh air will help clear my head," he said, standing up and making his way towards one of the doors leading towards Erebor's main gates.

"Alone?" Kili asked, his brown eyes widened as Bilbo began to walk away.

"You don't even have a weapon to defend yourself with," Fili said, a look of worry on his face.

"You'll do no such thing, hobbit. Not without a guard and certainly not in the middle of the night," Thorin said. Bilbo turned around and addressed them all with a cool stare and an even colder tone of voice.

"I will do whatever I please to, Thorin, son of Thrain, with or without your permission. If that offends you, then I'm afraid that that's your own doing, isn't it?" Bilbo said, glaring up defiantly at the kings. At Thorin's surprised expression he added, "And to think that such a thing as disobeying your orders would be so hard to manage."

Without another glance, Bilbo turned and left the dining hall, not caring if he had been rude or not and certainly not caring that he was being stared at. He quickly made his way towards the main gates of the Lonely Mountain and stared defiantly at the guards who were stationed there. If they tried to refuse to let him leave, then he would demand that they let the Royal Consort out or else. If they forcibly dragged him back to his room or the dungeons or wherever, then he would struggle and make this difficult for them (for even Bilbo knew that he wouldn't be able to defeat a dwarf).

"Where do ye think yer goin'?" one of the guards asked him, curiosity apparent on his face.

"Out for some fresh air, if you don't mind. Now, please allow me passage out of the mountain or I will inform Thorin that you refused to allow his consort out," Bilbo said briskly, his blue eyes narrowed slightly. He normally wouldn't use Thorin or his status to get his way, but at the moment he really couldn't care.

"Where will you go? And without a guard or an escort?" the other guard asked, a small portion of fear and worry alight in his eyes.

"Just on a walk in the woods. I will be back shortly," he answered them as they opened the gate.

"But there are creatures in the woods. Wolves and such… There have even been reports of wargs on the prowling, scouting and hunting," the first guard told him.

"Well, I can assure you that I can handle whatever the woods have in store for me," Bilbo snapped. "Besides, I won't be long. I just need some fresh air."

"Very well," the second guard relented.

"If ye aren't back within the hour we will inform the king of your disappearance," the first guard added, his voice holding no room for argument. Bilbo almost shook his head, but he didn't.

"That sounds reasonable enough, although I will be back before that would be necessary," he told them before stepping outside of the Lonely Mountain for the first time in weeks.


	11. X

~…~

X

~…~

The night air was chilly and refreshing. How long had it been exactly since Bilbo had ventured outside of the Lonely Mountain? A few weeks he knew, but it had felt like forever. He would admit that Erebor was magnificent and quite grand in its own right, but it was nothing compared to the outside world. Nothing could compare to the brightly shining moon that was in the night sky or the trees that swayed gently in the breeze. And during the day, Bilbo could just imagine the flowers that surely grew around the mountain and how alive the woods surely became. Yes, Erebor was glorious, but it had nothing on the natural beauty that surrounded it.

However, Bilbo was still fuming and angry and it had taken him a little while to cool down and actually look at the woods that surrounded them. During his trek to Erebor with Gandalf, Dwalin, Dori, and Ori, the woods had seemed peaceful and very safe. It was only after he had started to calm down that Bilbo realized that he had no idea of where he was, where he was going, or which way would lead him back to the mountain. He also realized that perhaps he should have listened when the guards at the gates said that it wasn't safe.

In all honesty, he had only started to calm down when he heard the first cry of what he assumed must have been a wolf. But as he hadn't heard another cry for quite some time, he pushed it out of his mind and actually looked around him. It was dark and quiet, very quiet, and very little moonlight passed through the many tree branches that surrounded him. After a few minutes passed, however, Bilbo found himself relaxing and he began to walk with more confidence. His feet carried him down a dirt path and around fallen tree branches and rocks that littered the way. The breeze that blew was a little bit chilly, but he didn't mind it one bit. It was refreshing and Bilbo figured that he needed it.

The further he walked the more relaxed and comfortable he became. These woods weren't unlike the ones around the Shire. Granted, he wasn't anywhere near the Shire, but still. Knowing that the two forests shared similarities gave him comfort and courage and allowed Bilbo to look around as he walked along the path. And then another howl came; only it was louder than the first one, and he stopped dead in his tracks.

His heart began to pound in his chest, almost as though it were aching to break free. Bilbo's eyes widened and looked around wildly, trying to see through all of the darkness that surrounded him. Not even his eyes could see very well in the woods around him and that made his stomach clench in anxiety and his palms sweat with nervousness. Suddenly, he was all too aware of just how quiet it had become. Aside from his footsteps and his hitched breathing, there were no other sounds. There was nothing to tell Bilbo if he was being stalked or not. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and he shivered, although whether it was from the chilly air or the thought that wolves were in the immediate area, he didn't know.

A third howling cry sounded off and this time it sounded so close by that Bilbo was surprised he wasn't looking the wolf or wolves in the face. He stopped for a moment, panicking foolishly, before he made up his mind to turn around and head back to the Lonely Mountain. Moving faster than he should have in his panic, his hair feet stumbled over fallen branches and rocks and he nearly tripped as he followed the path. From the dark woods that surrounded him, Bilbo could finally hear something approaching and he paused. Whatever had been moving with him stopped and the noise ceased. Bilbo could feel eyes on him, although he couldn't see them and he didn't want to even if he could.

With his heart thundering loudly in his ears, his breath coming out in panicked pants, and his palms and face sweaty, Bilbo took off running as fast as he could. Whatever had been tracking him burst forth from the trees and landed on the dirt path before it took off after him. Looking over his shoulder, the hobbit saw two of the largest wolves he had ever seen. Squinting in the dark, he realized with a cold terror that they weren't wolves but wargs. The guards had been right when they had warned him and Bilbo had been stupid enough to brush it off. Now he was going to die a bloody, violent, and painful death and there was nothing he could do about it.

Not paying attention to what was in front of him, Bilbo tripped over a large tree branch and fell onto the pathway. He scrambled frantically to get away from the branch and try to stand up, but when he did, a hot, searing pant shout through his foot and caused him to fall back down, practically crumbling. Turning around to face the two wargs that had been chancing him, Bilbo crawled to get away from him. It was then that the rest of the warg pack made themselves known, bursting forth from the trees and darkness all around him, surrounding him in a circle. There were about seven or eight in all and they left no room for escape.

Bilbo Baggins, of Bag End, Royal Consort to the King Under the Mountain, was about to die.

~…~

Thorin was walking to his chambers with Balin, who had been informing him of what the meeting tomorrow was about, when two guards approached them. They both looked equally frightened and worried as they quickly bowed and straightened up. The older guard, one with brown hair with a few streaks of silver in it and in his long beard, spoke first.

"Your Majesty, we've a situation," he said. Thorin suppressed a sigh. He was tired, especially after the scene with the hobbit in the dining hall, and all he wanted to do was get a few hours' rest. But as a king, he needed to be told about issues and, more importantly, he had to listen to what was being said about them.

"What's wrong, Loin?" he asked him.

"It's your consort, Master Baggins," the younger dwarf said. "He went outside about an hour ago for a walk."

Thorin almost sighed audibly. The hobbit… He had been making things so very difficult for Thorin lately. When Balin had first suggested that he take the hobbit with him on his rounds and to meetings, Thorin had thought that that would be as good enough punishment for his consort as any. And while it seemed that the hobbit had suffered immensely, Thorin believed that it was he himself who had been punished. His feelings for the hobbit had plagued him and confused him long before the incident with the fires, but they worsened with each passing day he spent with the small creature.

Surprisingly enough, Thorin found himself actually liking the hobbit, perhaps more so than he even wanted to. He had to admit to himself, just himself and no one else, that his consort was quite attractive, with his honey brown, curly hair, his big eyes full of innocence and curiosity, and his overall gentle personality. Yes, Master Baggins was quite attractive, even if he wasn't a dwarf, and there was something about him that drew Thorin to him. But he had no idea what to do! Things like this, feelings such as these, were strange and foreign to him. All his life he had been training to become king, and when his sister and her husband died, he had even become a father, what with taking Fili and Kili under his wing and protecting them. Whatever connection he felt with the hobbit was something he wasn't prepared for or knew how to handle. So, he handled it in the only way he could: like a child teasing his crush.

He seldom spoke or looked at Bilbo, but when he did he knew it was with the same look and attitude a prideful lad would give the lass he fancied. Although Thorin knew that the few remarks and comments he did make seemed rather childish and stupid, he didn't know how else to go about things. All that he knew was that he liked the hobbit and that he wanted to impress him and that he shouldn't feel like a dwarfling anymore. But he did and Bilbo made him feel those things and he had no idea what to do!

"And that is significant because…? He may do as he pleases, with or without a guard or escort, as he seems quite capable and determined to take care of himself," Thorin grumbled. Balin gave him a knowing look, but didn't say anything.

"We started hearing warg calls about half an hour ago. Far away at first, but now they're closer," the younger dwarf told him. "Master Baggins said he'd return within the hour."

"They're on a hunt, Your Majesty, and I have a hunch as t' what they're huntin'," the older dwarf said.

That was all Thorin needed to hear. Without so much as a passing glance at Balin, he barked out his orders. "Get Dwalin and a group of guards! Have them light torches and make haste to the forest immediately! I'll go on ahead."

"But Thorin, you're alone!" Balin protested even as Thorin began making his way towards Erebor's front gates.

"No, he's not," Fili said, coming around the corner with Kili by his side, his swords on his back. In Kili's hand was his bow and his quiver of arrows were strapped to his back.

"We'll go with him and make sure he doesn't hurt himself," Kili added.

"No! You two stay behind," Thorin told them, his voice leaving little room for argument while Balin, reluctantly, went to get his brother, Dwalin, and more guards.

"You can't go out there by yourself and confront a warg pack," Fili reasoned with him. "At least with us with you, you'd have two more pairs of eyes to watch your back."

"You're not well enough trained," Thorin growled as they marched down the main hall towards the front gates.

"Actually, Mister Dwalin said that we're gettin' better and better every day. He even said e might give you a run for your money, Uncle," Kili said, a big grin on his face.

"Besides, Kili is an excellent archer. His arrows would be perfect against a warg pack," Fili added. As much as Thorin hated to admit it, they did make a valid point.

"Very well. But take extra care in watching each others' backs. I'll not have my nephews die on me," Thorin grumbled as they walked past the front gates and out of the mountain.

Once outside, Thorin and his nephews ran down the trail and into the forest. With no torches to light the way and little moonlight making it through the tree branches, they had to rely on Kili's sight, which was far better than Thorin's and Fili's. It was what helped him become such a skilled archer and it was what they would have to rely on in order to make it to Bilbo in time. They ran down the dirt path, jumping and avoiding branches and rocks alike until Kili stopped.

"Up there. On the trail. There're about eight or so," Kili said.

"Where's Bilbo?" Thorin asked, a cold dread worming its way through his skin and into his blood.

"Can't tell. The wargs are all I can see," Kili replied.

"Shoot them. Draw their attention to us," Thorin instructed, drawing his sword.

"But, Uncle-"

"Do as I say, Kili," Thorin told him.

Removing an arrow from his quiver, Kili took aim with his bow and fired. It struck a warg in the back of its skull and it dropped dead onto the ground. The entire pack's attention shifted from the obvious terrified hobbit on the ground to them and without a moment's hesitation, the pack ran towards them.

With his sword in hand, Thorin fought them off, his nephews joining in the fray. But the wargs were large and strong and smart; they could maneuver and dodge the dwarves' attacks easily in the dark. He managed to bring one down that rushed him too soon and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Fili bring another down. But he was confused. Eight was a small number for a warg pack; surely, there had to be more. And he had heard rumors of orcs joining forces with the wargs. His sources were valid, this he knew for certain, and that made Thorin wonder where…

As if on cue, an orc battle cry resounded and more wargs came running out of the dark towards them. On their backs were orcs, foul, disgusting, evil beings that had caused more fear and pain than Thorin could recall, and they would all gladly kill him and his nephews for practically nothing. They were more of them than what Thorin could count, but he didn't need to count to know that his was hilarious outnumbered. More than likely, they would all die. That was unacceptable. Fortunately, Thorin could hear Dwalin and his forces coming behind him and, sure enough, they made it just in time.

A fierce battle ensued and Thorin found it hard to keep an eye out for his nephews. Trusting them to look out for themselves, he focused his attention on the orc and warg heading towards him. Swinging his sword, he sliced through the warg's face, bringing it down, before he pierced the orc's chest. Wargs began to fall all around him and the orcs on their backs had to fight on the ground. Dwarves swung their swords, axes, and maces, defeating the large beasts and fighting off orcish weaponry. Another orc astride a warg tried to cut of Thorin's head, but the Dwarf King managed to dodge it just in time before he lashed out this his sword and brought the warg down. He was so focused on finished the orc off that he failed to realize that another one was sneaking up behind him.

With a loud cry, the orc raised its sword, posing to strike the King Under the Mountain, when he gasped. His eyes widened and he blinked a few times before his sword fell out of his hands. The orc's body followed soon after and Thorin turned, having finished off his orc, to see what had happened. There, buried into the orc's skull, was an orc sword and Bilbo Baggins stood there, trembling with fear and cold and pain. He was covered in dirt and looked absolutely horrified by what he had just done, but as the battled ended all around them, Thorin realized that the hobbit had just saved his life.

"Bilbo…" Thorin said softly, taking a step towards the smaller creature. Bilbo's wide, frightened eyes looked up into his own and Thorin's heart tightened painfully. The look on his consort's face was one that he never wanted to see ever again.

"O-oh, d-dear…" Bilbo stuttered before he collapsed onto the ground.


	12. XI

~…~

XI

~…~

Kili stood off to the side of the infirmary with Fili, watching as Oin and a few of the other healers tended to the still unconscious hobbit. He had been looked over not too long ago himself, but he only had a few scratches and nothing serious at all. The same went for Fili; looking out for each others' backs had kept them alive and practically unscathed. Mister Dwalin had receiver a rather nasty cut on his forearm, but he still had an arm and that was a good thing. Uncle had a few bruises, scratches, and cuts himself, but he had refused to even be looked over until Bilbo was being taken care of.

He had seen it himself; Bilbo rushing in to save Uncle from the orc that would've very well ended his life. Despite being terrified and injured and, more than likely, still upset with Uncle, Bilbo still risked his own well being to save the King Under the Mountain. It had been an act of daring and bravery and, in Kili's opinion, it showed everyone that Bilbo was worthy of being Thorin's consort and even demonstrated that he could be as fearless as any other dwarf.

By now, his worries about the life debt had dwindled. However, Uncle's apparent dislike for Bilbo had brought up new concerns. Kili understood that Bilbo wasn't a dwarf but a hobbit and that that meant that there'd be differences between Uncle and him. He didn't understand how different until earlier that night when Bilbo left the dining hall angry and clearly upset.

But now, things were going to change, he was sure of it. After all, Bilbo had sacrificed his safety and well being to keep Thorin alive and unharmed. Kili knew that his uncle wouldn't let that go unnoticed. Perhaps things would change between the two of them and that they'd grow to care for each other, maybe even love each other. Uncle had been unhappy for quite some time now and Kili knew that Bilbo hadn't been happy at all since arriving at Erebor, and he had probably been unhappy before that.

Watching Uncle now as he stood close to the hobbit's bed and watched as the healers worked their trade, Kili could see that something had changed. Thorin's eyes, normally so fierce and piercing, were unsure and soft. There was a kindness in them that Kili only ever saw directed at a very few number of people (mostly Balin, Fili, and himself) and it astounded him. But it also made him happy and made him feel as though he could giggle for hours on end. Fili would understand what he meant; his brother always did.

Uncle had been alone for…well, his entire life. He had been there when his brother had died and when his mother had passed on. Thorin had watched as the gold sickness took over his grandfather, Thror, and Kili knew that he was deathly afraid of failing prey to the same illness. When Fili and Kili's mother had died, Thorin had held her hand on her death bed. That had been the only time that Kili ever saw his uncle cry and it frightened him greatly to see those tears fall silently from those otherwise fierce blue eyes. And when Thorin's father, Thrain, became ill, Thorin, for all intents and purposes, became the Lonely Mountain's king before his time. Orc and warg attacks and raids that had been happening too close to Erebor for comfort were a constant worry on Uncle's mind. Considering all of the responsibilities Thorin had to take on, it was no surprise that he hadn't found someone to spend the rest of his life with.

It made sense that Uncle would see the life debt as an easy way out. Well, not easy; nothing as serious as a life debt was easy, especially one that had lasted for so long, but it was the best option. Thorin was…well, he wasn't the warmest or the most approachable dwarf even without being the king or crown prince. Yes, he showed that he cared about his nephews and the few dwarves he would call friends, but other than that, he was a hard man to get to know. However, Kili had hoped – and sometimes even prayed – that Bilbo would be able to worm his way into the King's heart. Even if they never fall in love with one another, being friends would still do the both of them a world of good. Or at least, that was what Kili hoped.

Seeing the kindness, the worry, and the regret in Uncle's eyes made Kili think that it would be possible for the two of them to grow close. And maybe they would even fall in love. Kili had no doubt in his mind that Thorin was capable of loving another; he had proven so by loving and caring for Fili and himself. But would Bilbo love Thorin in return?

He hoped so. He truly hoped so.

~…~

Thorin gazed down at the hobbit's sleeping face, as he had been doing for the past hour or so now. The creases in his brow were prominent and they even looked deeper than they had when they met for the very first time. And he looked pale and a little thinner than before. Guilt began to rise within him once again.

He shouldn't have been so hard on Bilbo. After all, Thorin had been the one to repay the life debt, so he should have been more sensitive and friendlier to the small creature lying on the bed before him. Bilbo had been living a happy, quiet, and peaceful life before Thorin had agreed with Gandalf that it was time to repay the life debt Taegan, son of Thane, had owned Hollis Baggins. And without even asking him, Thorin forced the hobbit to leave behind everything he had ever known and loved to become his consort.

And even after the way Thorin had treated him, even after Thorin had done his best to push him away, Bilbo had saved his life. He was frightened, alone, upset, and in pain, and yet, Bilbo had jumped in and killed the orc who had been about to kill Thorin. Had the hobbit not grabbed an orc sword, Erebor would have no king. Yes, there was Fili, but he was not ready to be king. Thinking about the Lonely Mountain without a king to protect it and its people made Thorin's blood run cold. But there was still a king and the people and the Mountain were safe and would be protected. And it was all thanks to Bilbo Baggins, a mere hobbit from the Shire.

But he wasn't a mere hobbit from the Shire; not anymore. Now, he was Bilbo Baggins, Royal Consort to the King Under the Mountain, and he was a hero. Thorin frowned deeply and lowered his eyes to look at the white sheet that covered Bilbo's body. He had acted so shamefully towards the hobbit and had disgraced his title of King. Not only that, but Bilbo's sprained and swollen ankle, the cut on his head he had received when he collapsed onto the ground and hit his head on a rock, and the few bruises on his body were all his fault. Had he not been so mean, so uncaring, then Bilbo would have never stormed out of the dining hall and demanded to be let out of the Lonely Mountain.

Thorin knew that he shouldn't have been so distant and cold. If he had been more open and honest with Bilbo from the very beginning instead of just hiding what he felt then this wouldn't have happened. He had been stupid and had allowed himself to be confused and uncertain. Well, he was still confused and uncertain, but he could see clearly now. For a while now, ever since he first laid eyes on the hobbit, Thorin had been trying to tell himself that their marriage was a political one only and that he wasn't going to love him. However, without him even realizing it, he had started to care about Bilbo, and tonight had brought that to his attention.

When Bilbo fell to the ground unconscious, Thorin's heart nearly leapt out of his chest. A cold, terrible fear began to take hold of him as his mind raced with thoughts of Bilbo somehow being injured by an orc or warg. As he knelt down beside the smaller body, however, Thorin saw that he hadn't been injured with a sword or by a warg but had, in fact, only fainted. That fact had calmed him down tremendously and Thorin gently picked him up.

"He's bleeding!" Kili had cried out.

Thorin quickly checked the back of Bilbo's head and, sure enough, there was a gash there with blood seeping out of it. Looking down, he had spotted a large, particularly sharp rock and he knew that he had to get his consort to the Mountain's infirmary quickly before he lost too much blood or before an infection began to set in.

Although the trek back to Erebor hadn't been long, it felt like an eternity to Thorin. Dwalin had called to the guards at the front gates to summon a gurney as quickly as possible. One arrived and Thorin placed Bilbo onto it, albeit reluctantly. After carrying the hobbit in his arms, he had grown quite accustomed to holding him and he didn't want to let him go. He never thought he'd want or crave to hold another in his arms and keep them safe and protected like that. However, Bilbo had roused many emotions within Thorin that he had always believed he had never needed or wanted. While most of his immediate family had passed on, he still had his nephews (he wouldn't even begin to count his cousins; there were far too many of them for him to do so) and they were all he had ever needed as far as family.

Yes, there had been a few times when he had felt lonely and had craved another's affection, but he had been the crown prince and had no time to even begin to think about pursuing a lover. Now, he was king and he was married to a hobbit, a creature who was soft and gently and…and absolutely beautiful. Thorin looked up at Bilbo's face again and something flooded his entire being. Was it relief? Contentment? Happiness, even? A warmth, one that he hadn't felt since he was a young dwarf, began to spread throughout his body as his eyes took in his consort's visage. Although he still felt guilty for being the cause of Bilbo's harm, Thorin was glad that he was alive and well. He was glad that he'd have the chance to change things between them and make them better.

Perhaps he would love Bilbo.

Perhaps he already loved him.

And perhaps…perhaps Bilbo would love him as well.

A soft groan brought Thorin out of his thoughts and into the present. Blinking, his blue eyes watched as Bilbo began to wake up, blinking blearily at first before realization struck him. He moved to sit up, but Thorin placed a hand on his chest to stop his movement. Bilbo looked up at him and their eyes met. There was uncertainty and fear in the hobbit's eyes and Thorin's heart clenched. He had never, ever wanted Bilbo to fear him. And he was going to try to make sure that Bilbo was never afraid of him again.

"How are you feeling?" Thorin asked him gently, his voice rough and hoarse from him not talking.

"My head and foot both hurt," Bilbo answered him, looking down at the white sheet covering him.

"Your ankle is sprained and you cut yourself on a rock when you fainted," Thorin explained. Bilbo groaned and rubbed a hand over his face.

"Of course. Fainting…always fainting…" the hobbit muttered to himself. Thorin didn't say anything, but he did remove his hand from Bilbo's chest and moved it to cover the other's hand.

"I…I wanted to apologize for what I said to you tonight. And…for treating you poorly altogether," Thorin said softly. Bilbo looked at him and his eyes lit up with a defiant fire that took Thorin's breath away.

"W-well, you should be. I realize that I'm not a dwarf and that I will never be able to understand you lot very well, but that doesn't mean that I shouldn't get credit for trying. I would have never been treated with s-such disrespect in the Shire, just so you know. And while you may be king, that doesn't mean that you have a right to boss me around," Bilbo told him, trying to be firm although his voice trembled every so often. "I am your consort and you should treat me as such and not like scum on the bottom of your boot."

"You're right," Thorin admitted after a slight pause, a soft chuckle emanating from him.

"Of course I'm right. I… Wait, what?" Bilbo stopped and blinked at him in surprise. "Did…did you just say I was right?" he asked.

"I did," Thorin answered him.

"Well. I…um…thank you. Yes, thank you very much," Bilbo said.

"No, it is I who should be thanking you," Thorin told him, his thumb gently caressing Bilbo's hand. He watched the hobbit swallow before he spoke.

"Thanking me for what?" Bilbo asked him.

"For saving my life," Thorin said simply. He watched as a small blush spread across Bilbo's cheeks and he found himself smiling slightly at the sight. It truly was endearing, seeing this gentle being blushing at his words. It was a sight that he liked very much.

"Yes, well… You're welcome," Bilbo said softly.

Their eyes met again and they both smiled softly. Bilbo's eyes looked down at their hands for a second before they returned to meet Thorin's gaze. His blush deepened, but his smile grew and the warmth that had spread throughout Thorin's body intensified. He liked it, though and he knew that things would be different between them from here on out.


	13. XII

~…~

XII

~…~

A few days after the Other Incident, which was what Bilbo called the whole battle between the dwarves and the warg packs, he was still bed ridden. The scratch on his head was healing well and his ankle was doing better, but he had come down with a fever and Oin insisted that he remained in the infirmary until it went down. He wouldn't have minded it had Fili and Kili not pestered him as much as they did. Oh, he knew that they meant well and they had made him feel better at first, but there came a point where even Bilbo couldn't stand them anymore. They would reach that point of annoyance where all he'd want to do was throttle them. How Thorin managed to put up with them was beyond him.

Thorin had visited him often as well, which was both surprising and yet very welcoming. In all honesty, Bilbo hadn't known what to think or believe when Thorin had apologized to him. After all, they had all been under a lot of stress and were still on a sort of adrenaline high when the Dwarf King had said those things to him. Would it have been odd for Bilbo to not believe him? No, it wouldn't have. But then again, if Thorin hadn't meant any of what he had said, he wouldn't have shown up, would he?

Regardless, it was rather…nice having Thorin around and Bilbo found himself enjoying the king's company (something that surprised him all things considered). He could see a change in Thorin already; it was apparent when he woke up from fainting. Thorin's face, his expression, his eyes, had softened and he had seemed so sincere. And having Thorin sit by his bed side hadn't been all that awkward. It had been at first, but Bilbo hadn't known what to say or where to go since they moved past their miscommunication. After a little while, however, everything began to feel comfortable.

When he was finished with his rounds and with whatever meeting or meetings that had taken place that day, Thorin would come and sit by his side for hours on end. He would ask Bilbo how he was feeling and if he needed anything, which he was surprised about but glad nonetheless. It made him feel as though he actually did matter to the king and he found that he kind of liked it. Feeling as though he was of some sort of importance to Thorin made Bilbo feel good, really good actually, and he liked it. There had been a few times when Bilbo caught Thorin looking at him with a strange expression on his face that, for some odd reason, reminded him of a look he often saw on his mother's face whenever she looked at his father. However, he didn't know what to call it.

Or, perhaps, he did know but he just didn't want to admit it to himself. No matter what, Bilbo barely knew Thorin and Thorin barely knew him. The only reason Thorin married him in the first place was because he wanted to repay the life debt between their two lines. From what he had gathered, there was some sort of bond between them due to the life debt and the fact that it had a very long time to endure and strengthen. So far however, Bilbo didn't see any sort of strong bond or anything between himself and the King Under the Mountain. Perhaps now that they had gotten past their differences – or so he hoped – they would become good friends or…or maybe even…

Bilbo shook his head and tried to focus on the book in his hands. Honestly, how ridiculous was it of him to even contemplate something like that? There was very little chance that Thorin was even slightly attracted to him. After all, he was a dwarf and a king; other dwarves were probably more appealing to him than hobbits and surely a commoner such as Bilbo wouldn't be enough to tempt his kingly eyes. Of course, as far as hobbit standards go, Bilbo was very much respectable and normal with his Baggins blood and his lovely home in Bag End. Dwarves were most certainly not hobbits and, as thus, didn't find hobbits attractive. Or wouldn't. Or couldn't. Yes, Bilbo had saved Thorin's life, but that didn't mean that he would begin to find Bilbo appealing or would fall in love with him.

Besides, Bilbo couldn't fall in love with Thorin anyway. Well, that wasn't necessarily true for he could very well fall in love with his husband. After all, he was handsome and strong and brave. He cared for his home and his people and did his best for them, to protect them. So it was quite possible for Bilbo to fall in love with Thorin. But, when it came right down to it, he was still a hobbit, a Baggins of Bag End, and Thorin was still a dwarf, the King Under the Mountain, and their marriage wasn't based on love. It was based on a life debt and happened for political reasons. While they may become friends, Bilbo wasn't going to fool himself. More than likely, Thorin would take a mistress in order to relieve his…frustrations. Bilbo couldn't blame him; it wasn't as though he didn't have a right to. They may be married, but they weren't in love and there was no way that they'd ever do…that.

What had occurred on their wedding night was nothing. It made sense that Thorin would want to consummate their marriage even if they didn't love one another. But Bilbo wasn't like that. He wouldn't give himself to someone unless he truly loved them, and that was what he told Thorin. And he would stand by that until…until… Until what? Bilbo asked himself the question unable to stop himself. Being a respectable hobbit, he had been raised to be loyal and faithful to the person he would marry and he intended to do just that. Regardless of if Thorin saw him as a friend or as something more, regardless of if Thorin took on a lover or not, Bilbo would stay faithful to him no matter what.

But Bilbo wasn't sure if Thorin would ever take on a mistress or not. He liked to believe that, as a king, Thorin had more honor than that. In fact, Bilbo would bet one of his beloved books or maps on it. However, even though they had been married for a couple of weeks (soon to be a month, Bilbo thought) there was still a lot about Thorin that Bilbo didn't know. Not that he wouldn't want to know more about him because he would. Actually, now that Thorin was more approachable, Bilbo found himself wanting to know more about the dwarf. So it was very much possible that Thorin wouldn't take a mistress or anything of the sort. Just thinking about there being someone else made Bilbo's heart clench painfully. Although he wasn't sure why it did (or maybe he did and he just didn't want to admit it to himself), but it did and it was incredibly unpleasant.

In the end, his thoughts merely served to confuse and frustrate Bilbo and he pushed them away. Not thinking about them was better than thinking about them. Thinking about them led to too many conflicting emotions and brought up too many possibilities that could result in him causing himself pain because he was foolish and naïve. He saved Thorin's life and the Dwarf King had been grateful and had treated him kindly for the past few days. Bilbo hoped with all of his heart that they would become friends. Truly, if he could have nothing else, he would want that. Isn't that what he wanted anyway, to be friends with Thorin?

"What troubles you?" Bilbo blinked and looked up from his book, which he had managed to neglect the entire time. Thorin was gazing at him with blue eyes full of concern and kindness and that little bit of something else Bilbo couldn't name.

"Um… Nothing. N-nothing is troubling me. Why do you ask?" Bilbo answered him glancing down at his book for a second before he looked back up at his husband.

"I've been standing here for the past five minutes watching you bore a hole into your book. You weren't reading it; you were pondering something," Thorin sat down on the chair that had been placed beside Bilbo's bed side. He always sat in it whenever he arrived; it was his chair and no one else's.

"Hm. I suppose I was…" Bilbo mumbled softly.

"Anything that I can help with?" Thorin asked, his voice soft and his eyes worried and pleading.

"It's nothing to worry about, I can assure you," Bilbo said quickly, closing his book and giving Thorin a smile. Whether it reached his eyes or not, he was not sure, but he did see the dwarf narrow his eyes for just a second and it made him shift slightly. Changing the subject was the best bet, so that's what he did. "How has your day been? Is everything going well?"

At the questions, Thorin's eyes lit up and some of the worry and concern lifted from them. Seeing that caused Bilbo's heart to flutter slightly and a light pink tint crossed his cheeks as he listened to Thorin's voice as he spoke. "My day has been the same as it usually is. Erebor is well. The miners and jewelers are uncovering many of the Lonely Mountain's hidden treasures and are weighing them. The markets are the same as they always all. Bofur and Bifur both asked how you were and Bofur asked if he could visit you later on this evening if you're up to it."

"Oh, I'd be delighted," Bilbo said, a real smile spreading across his face.

"I told him as much. He also wanted to know if you'd be joining me on my rounds sometime soon," Thorin told him.

"I'll probably be out of here in the day or so. I still have to stay off of it until most of the swelling is down, but I can wrap it myself with little trouble. Oin told me that it'd take a couple of months for the swelling to go down entirely, but I'd be able to hobble around after most of it is gone," Bilbo explained to him.

"I thought as much. Have you been able to hobble at all?" Thorin asked him, his one hand hovering over the swollen ankle, barely even grazing it.

"Well, it still hurts a bit, but I've managed to get around slowly but surely," Bilbo replied. "I just need to be careful and keep it wrapped."

"I see…" Thorin said softly. He looked a bit let down and Bilbo wondered why.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "Did I…do something?" Oh, he would hate it if Thorin was put off because of something he unknowingly did.

"No, you did nothing wrong. I merely…" Thorin paused before his blue eyes met Bilbo's. "There's something I want to show you, something I think you'll…like, but I want to do so when you are well again. I'd rather not aggravate your injury already, especially when you just recovered from that fever."

"I see. What is it that you want to show me?" Bilbo tilted his head to the side, unable to stop his curiosity from showing. He had always been curious by nature, so much so that his father often said that it'd get him into trouble some day. But his mother had always encouraged it and Bilbo tended to listen to her more than his father anyway.

"You're going to have to wait until your ankle is fully healed," Thorin said, a small, playful smile on his face. It made him look more handsome than he already was and Bilbo found that he enjoyed seeing the smile on his husband's face. He wouldn't be opposed to seeing more of it that was for sure.

"It'll take at least a few weeks before I'll be able to walk half decently and for the swelling to dwindle down enough. I do believe that you're making me wait just to see me squirm and boil with curiosity," Bilbo told him, a pout on his face. At least, he had tried to pout; seeing Thorin smile and then laugh at his comment made him smile and laugh in return.

"Then you'll have to have vast amounts of patience, won't you, my hobbit?" Thorin asked him, a playful, teasing glint in his eyes. Bilbo didn't miss the 'my hobbit' at the end of the question and he couldn't help but like hearing Thorin call him that.


	14. XIII

~…~

XIII

~…~

Fili couldn't help but feel a bit fidgety. He really, really couldn't. And, truthfully, there wasn't anything bad going on that warranted his restlessness and worry. Erebor was just the same as it always had been: powerful, glorious, and magnificent. Its people were healthy and thriving and there had been very few raids and attacks by wargs or orcs since the last time. All in all, Fili should have been frolicking – as much as he usually did with Kili – throughout the mountain, planning schemes and pranks to sabotage the kitchens or the markets or something like that.

Instead, he was pacing, back and forth, back and forth, in his room. Thorin had just admitted to him – as much as his uncle did admit things because, honestly, he hardly ever admitted to anything if it involved a mistake or feelings or anything like that – that he would be taking Bilbo to the Lonely Mountain's library. Fili knew that something like that shouldn't have been a big deal. Books were interesting only when there was nothing else to do, and for him and his brother there was always something to do. However, he knew that Bilbo liked books very much indeed. He had even brought a few of his favorite books from the Shire with him to Erebor. Whether or not all hobbits liked to read as much as Bilbo did, Fili did not know, but he knew for a fact that his other uncle – as he and Kili had started calling him affectionately – hadn't been able to really look and poke around in the library. Besides, from what Uncle had told him, it would only be the two of them and that meant that Bilbo was sure to get a full tour of it.

As he didn't know Khuzdul, Bilbo would only be able to read in the Common Tongue. Apparently, Uncle had thought of that as well. From what Fili had been told by Uncle, Balin, and Ori – the latter of which was very much excited indeed – the library had been rearranged for Bilbo's convenience. What had been done to it he didn't know, but he knew that it wouldn't look the same as it always had. His uncle had seen nervous and even unsure, which he rarely was. Even if he was, no one would know because Thorin was good at keeping his feelings to himself and being strong for his kingdom and his people. Wearing his heart on his sleeve wasn't exactly what he did, so for him to show how nervous he was proved to Fili that there was something more going on between Thorin and Bilbo.

Throwing himself down on a chair, Fili sighed and rolled his eyes. It was about time that Uncle started coming to his senses about Bilbo. He wasn't unattractive after all and they were married so it was only natural that Uncle should want to bed his consort. They hadn't done anything yet! When Fili heard that, he nearly choked on his ale. At first, he wasn't sure if Balin had told him correctly. But if Balin had said it, then it must be true because Balin, being one of Thorin's most trusted advisors and friends, knew everything. Still, even as he thought of it now, he could hardly believe it. Then again, he supposed that it made sense.

Bilbo didn't seem like the kind of person to jump into bed as soon as the courtship started. To be frank, Fili didn't think that Bilbo had ever been courted in his life. He couldn't understand why; it wasn't as though Bilbo was queer in any way. From what his new uncle had told both him and Kili – where was his brother anyway? – Bilbo had lived a solitary life in his hobbit hole after his father and mother died. Was there something wrong with that? Fili certainly didn't think so. And he was quite attractive even though he wasn't a dwarf, so why hadn't anyone even bothered to at least try and court Bilbo? Perhaps they had and he had never noticed it? But that didn't seem quite right; Bilbo wasn't daft or stupid in anyway. Maybe Bilbo had turned them down? That was very possible. Shrugging to himself, Fili figured that he'd ask Bilbo himself if he remembered and if Uncle wasn't around. Thorin had a nasty habit of getting jealous quickly.

And then a thought struck a chord within him: what if Bilbo wasn't attracted to Uncle?

Oh, that would make everything so very difficult and awkward, especially since it was apparent that Thorin liked Bilbo at least. If Bilbo wasn't attracted to Uncle or didn't eventually fall in love with him, then…what was Uncle going to do? What were any of them going to do? Fili was worrying himself silly, which was highly unusual for him since he only ever worried about Thorin, Kili, and a few close friends, of which Bilbo was now included.

He didn't really need to worry about whether or not Bilbo was attracted to Thorin because the two of them shared a bond, a connection forged by a life debt that would only strength the closer they got. Although he hardly paid any attention to his tutors, Fili had managed to retain some information. Life debts were serious and should never be taken likely. When a life debt if left unpaid for a few years, it causes a bond to form between the two people or their descendants until it's fulfilled. The longer it's left unpaid, the stronger the bond becomes. Thorin and Bilbo's life debt is the strongest of all that he was forced to learn about so far. Although Uncle's poor treatment of Bilbo didn't help strengthen the bond, it didn't lessen it either. And if they became closer, then the bond that they shared would get stronger. Fili had read and had been told by his tutors that those connected by a life debt could sometimes sense when their partner is in danger. Some have even been able to pick up on each other's emotions. He wondered if Uncle and Bilbo would reach that level of trust and intimacy; he really hoped so.

The doors to his room opened and in walked his brother, grinning from ear to ear and looking very much like a mischievous dwarf who just pulled a prank.

"What are you up to this time, my dear brother?" Fili asked, returning his brother's bright grin. Kili plopped himself in his usual chair, which was right next to his own.

"Mister Dwalin told me to clean his axes because of how poorly I did today in training," Kili said, barely able to suppress his giggles.

Fili didn't have to think hard about training. It was hard to forget the perverted innuendos he and Kili had thrown back and forth as they lunged and dodged. Honestly, it wasn't their fault; Mister Dwalin was to blame. If he hadn't told them that they couldn't hold a candle to a new born babe when it came to sword fighting, they wouldn't have started on how much Dwalin wouldn't mind if Ori just so happened to pop out a few new born babes. After, of course, he popped something else out. That had started it and they only got worse the longer they were at training until even Mister Dwalin had told them to get the hell out.

"And?" Fili asked.

"Oh, I cleaned them all right," Kili said, wiggling his eye brows. The glint in his brother's brown eyes made Fili's grin disappeared. It was one thing to haphazardly cleaned Dwalin's axes; it was another to mess with them completely. He was very protective of his axes and would most likely kill Kili if he did something drastic.

"What'd you do?" Fili asked a bit more serious than the first time.

"I put them in the woolen axe covers Ori knitted," Kili answered. Well, that didn't sound too bad.

"That's it?" Fili was surprised and a bit let down. He had expected better.

"After I dyed the covers pink and put them on display for anyone who walks into the training room." Oh yes, that would definitely get his ass chewed up and spit out, but it was still funny.

"But enough about me. You looked troubled, Fili. What's wrong?" Kili asked him and just like that, all laughter was replaced with open concern and worry.

"Oh, nothin'. Just thinking about Uncle and Bilbo," he answered.

"Mister Boggins?" Kili said, perking up. "We haven't seen him for a while!"

"We saw him this morning, Kili," Fili reminded him.

"But that was ages ago. We should go and say hi!" So, that was what they did.

Leaving Fili's bed chamber, they made their way along the hallway towards Bilbo's room. It didn't take them long to get there; everyone in the Royal Family was housed in the same area. Stopping in front of the familiar doors, Fili and Kili both exchanged grins before they knocked. From within, they heard soft feet padding across the carpet before they stopped and the door opened. Bilbo smiled up at them when he saw them and opened his door wider.

"Fili? Kili? What brings you two here? You're not in trouble again, are you?" Bilbo asked as he made his way over to his desk and chair. His ankle was doing very well. There was very little pain and the swelling had gone down so much that it was hardly there. But then again, he had had about five weeks to recover. Or was it seven? Regardless, it was doing well and it didn't hurt that Bilbo was naturally a fast healer.

"We came to see you!" Kili told him.

"And we're not in trouble. At least, not yet. And I won't be," Fili told him, sending his brother a smirk.

"Kili, what did you do?" Bilbo asked, sighing a bit.

"Nothing! Honest," Kili said, his brown eyes wide. The look on Bilbo's face told them both that the hobbit was more than skeptical, but he didn't press the matter.

"So, you're here to see me? We saw each other earlier," Bilbo said, but he still looked glad to see them.

"Yes, but you were gone as soon as we got there," Kili protested.

"I was there for a half hour after the two of you arrived!"

"And that was all!" Kili rebutted.

"Bilbo, can I ask you something?" Fili said suddenly, shutting his brother up and ending their argument.

"You already have, but I suppose you may," Bilbo said, giving Fili his lopsided smile.

"How do you feel about Uncle?" he asked. Kili stared at him, obviously wondering what the hell he was talking about. But it made perfect sense to Fili, especially since tomorrow would be the big day, the day that Thorin was going to show Bilbo the library. And although it was such a simple gesture, it would change everything and decide how things went from here on out.

"Ah… Um… Well…. I-I mean to…to say….hrm…" Bilbo stuttered, trying to find the right words to say. "H-he frightened me…at first, you know?" he finally said.

"I don't blame you. Uncle can be every frightening," Kili said and Fili had to agree with him. Dwalin's temper was nothing compared to their uncle's.

"But now…things are different. They're better. Much, much better and…and we're getting along very well," Bilbo told them, smiling softly, fondly, and blushing just a little bit.

"Yes, yes, but how do you feel about him?" Fili pressed. Bilbo blushed even harder and he stayed silent for a while before he answered.

"W-well, I suppose that I…care about him. After all, he's been very supportive and caring since the Other Incident," Bilbo said. Fili and Kili were gazing up at him as though he were telling a very fascinating tale. In a sense, he was.

"I like to think of us a friends. Yes, I would definitely call Thorin my friend," Bilbo added, sounding more confident and sure of himself than he had before.

"But is that it?" Kili asked him, his eyes wide and full of his youthful innocence.

"I…I don't know. W-w-what I mean is I'm not sure. I've never been courted and I was never in a relationship with another. I've never even been married before now," Bilbo admitted to them, chuckling softly to himself. "But perhaps…maybe… I mean, I…I could a…a future here…with him." His face was very red and it made the two of them smile and coo.

"Bilbo, that's so sweet!"

"You're so cute!"

"Uncle will be so pleased!"

"When he finds out that you love him-"

"-he'll leap for joy!"

"Well, perhaps not leap," Fili said.

"Indeed. Uncle doesn't seem like the leaping type," Kili agreed with a nod.

"Who said I was going to tell Thorin about my…my feelings? And who said I loved him anyway? Right now, we're just good friends!" Bilbo said loudly, his face still red.

"That's what they all say," Kili said, brushing his protests off.

"And you may not even know that you love him," Fili added.

"Boys…Boys…" Bilbo muttered, shaking his head. "You two are troublemakers. That's what you are." They looked at each other, grinned, and turned back to him.

"We know," they said.

"But we're serious about this," Fili added.

"Very serious! Uncle would not have gone to such lengths for tomorrow if he hadn't," Kili said.

"He told you about our plans for tomorrow?" Bilbo asked them. They nodded, still grinning. "Did he tell you what the surprise was?"

"Nope," Kili said.

"Never said a word," Fili added.

They left Bilbo wondering and stuttering about what exactly Thorin had planned for tomorrow. Seeing their hobbity uncle squirm and fret was truly endearing and it almost made the both of them feel bad. Almost.


	15. XIV

~…~

XIV

~…~

"Thorin, I must say, I do not like being blind folded. Not one bit," Bilbo said as he was led to Mahal knew where.

Thorin had arrived at his bed chamber not too long ago, telling Bilbo that he'd have to blind fold him before they left for Thorin's surprise. Bilbo had a feeling of what it could be, but he just wasn't sure. Dwarves, he had learned, were full of surprises. Like Fili and Kili for example. They were troublemakers who enjoyed playing pranks and telling jokes and they never tried to pull the same prank twice if they could help it. He may not have been in Erebor long, but he had come to know and understand that. Surely, Thorin had been at least a little like them in his youth and that was why Bilbo tried to keep an open mind.

The blind fold made that quite easy and it almost made him very uncomfortable, which helped to take his mind off of what the surprise could be. He didn't like not being able to see where he was going. Yes, he was much more familiar with the Lonely Mountain and its layout than he had been when he had first arrived, but he wouldn't' dare to walk around with his eyes closed for fear of getting lost. Or worse.

For the few months he has lived within Erebor as Royal Consort, Bilbo could honestly say that most of the dwarves didn't like him. Well, perhaps that was not so; perhaps it was only a matter of the fact that he was a hobbit, soft and tender, and not a hard, brutish dwarf. No one had said anything disrespectful to him – he was the king's consort after all – but he had received a few glares and whispers. He could understand it; most of the dwarves of Erebor were unaccustomed to hobbits and their culture. In time, Bilbo knew – hoped – that things would improve and that dwarves would come to somewhat understand hobbits and their way of life just as Bilbo was beginning to understand the dwarven way of life.

"Would you have kept you eyes shut on your own if I hadn't?" came Thorin's reply.

"Yes," Bilbo answered.

"Without peeking through your fingers?" Thorin asked. Bilbo hesitated before he responded.

"Well…perhaps I would…a little," he said softly.

He heard Thorin chuckle and the sound sent a jolt throughout his little body. Bilbo loved hearing Thorin's laugh; the king laughed so little that it was a nice treat to hear it when he did. And it was even better because he had been the one to cause it. A small spark of pride struck him knowing that he could make the King Under the Mountain chuckle.

"And that is why you are blind folded, my Halfling," Thorin told him.

Bilbo's heart skipped a beat when he heard Thorin call him that. My Halfling. Something about being called that made Bilbo's heart beat quicker and stirred something deep within him that he had never felt before. Part of him, a part that was thrilled by the notion of adventure and whirl wind romances and kings and dragons, liked to think that it was because Thorin truly had feelings for him, feelings that went beyond those of friendship. Surely, that was the Took side of him. But when Bilbo's Baggins side reared its head, he forced his heart to stop beating so wildly and made himself think. Thorin was his friend and his feelings towards Bilbo were ones of friendship. Why would he love a hobbit, even one as respectable as Bilbo Baggins? What could a hobbit offer to a king who had everything?

"We're here," Thorin spoke softly as they came to a halt.

"Where is 'here', Thorin?" Bilbo asked, his blind fold still firmly in place.

"Wait here for a moment, Bilbo," Thorin said before he let go of Bilbo's hands.

They fell limp to his side as he heard and felt Thorin walk away. The sound of large doors opening registered in his pointed ears and they twitched at the sound. A soft gush of wind bellowed out of whatever room Thorin just opened and brushed past him. And then, Thorin was back at his side. His body heat was very much welcome as Bilbo had felt quite chilly without it. His hands grabbed onto Bilbo's smaller ones and, gently, Thorin tugged him forward, silently commanding that he follow him.

"Come. It's ready," came the king's voice softly.

Bilbo walked forward, his steps slow and careful, just in case. He'd rather not ruin everything Thorin had worked so hard for by stubbing a toe or anything of the sort. The room they walked into felt warm and comfortable; even the stone floor was nice to touch. And then his feet touched carpet and Bilbo's eyebrows rose up in surprise. He hadn't been expecting carpet. Then a slight dread crept over him. What if this was Thorin's bed chamber? His heart began to pound rapidly at the very thought. After all, he had told Thorin his feelings on the matter; why would the Dwarf King walk him around for Mahal only knew how long only to bring him back to the Royal Wing and his bed chamber?

Thorin must have sensed his discomfort because his thumbs traced circles on the back of the hands in a gentle, reassuring caress. Bilbo calmed down, but only slightly; his mind was too far carried away to allow his body to relax.

"There's nothing to fear, Bilbo. I promise that you will like the surprise," Thorin said, his voice reassuring even with its rough baritone. Bilbo was led further into the room before Thorin released him. "I'm taking your blind fold off now."

There was a tug on the blind fold and Bilbo bit his lip to prevent a hiss from escaping as his hair was pulled on along with the cloth around his eyes. Light poured in when it was gone and he opened his eyes. A loud gasp emanated from him before he could even think.

He was standing in Erebor's library. It was far different from how it had been when he first came upon it. For starters, there was a nice, clean-looking carpet that covered most of the hard stone floor. The room itself seemed lighter and brighter than it had been. There were more candles in the room than there had been before and there was even a few patches of natural light that streamed in through small, tunnel like windows. Thorin had replaced the old, rather worn down chairs with ones that looked far more comfortable and with carvings on the arm rests and the legs of dwarven faces. On the walls were tapestries that depicted grand battles and moments of victory and paintings.

But best of all were the books. Oh, there were probably thousands of books in the library! They all looked as though they had been touched up and cared for just for this moment. The shelves and humongous book cases that they rested within were the color of nice tanned wood that shone and looked as smooth as a baby's bottom. Everything had been organized into categories and by languages and there were ladders that led up to platforms as high up as the ceiling. A large, grand fire place with a nice, roaring fire already lit inside it stood proud on the left side of the room and radiated a welcoming warmth that reached every corner of the room.

Bilbo couldn't help but gape in wonder. He had never had any time to actually look and poke around in the library. Before the Other Incident, he had been busy with his rounds and meetings with Thorin to even bother. And since he had been held up because of his ankle, he wasn't exactly able to move around all over the place, and the library was quite a distance away from his own bed chamber. But now, however, now there was absolutely nothing stopping him from rummaging through the numerous books that Erebor had in her library. It was like a dream come true.

"All of the books have been catalogued by subject and language. I know that you do not read or speak Khuzdul, so I thought it best to keep the books in the Common Tongue together," Thorin told him as he watched Bilbo's reaction with a nervous expression on his face.

"That is…absolutely wonderful," Bilbo mumbled softly as he looked all around him, still in awe at the wonder of the place.

"Do you…like it?" Thorin asked, his voice sounding uncertain and hesitant. Bilbo turned to him and beamed at him, his smile more radiant and bright than the sun.

"I love it! Thank you. Thank you so much," Bilbo said, "It must have taken a lot of time and effort… And just for me…"

"Balin and Fili are handling whatever affairs I have for us today, so you're free to do as you please in here. I've instructed that no one else is allowed to bother you while you're in here," Thorin said.

"Will you stay here with me?" Bilbo asked him as he began to approach one of the shelves nearest to him.

"Of course. For as long as you'll have me," Thorin answered. Bilbo smiled and pulled a book off of the shelf. It contained maps of Erebor and a history of the dwarves who resided there. That would definitely make for an interesting read, especially the maps.

"Thank you, Thorin, for this," Bilbo said, turning to the king with his book in hand and giving him a hug. Thorin hugged him back and Bilbo couldn't help but feel like a small child on Christmas Day. "It means so much to me that you took time to do this for me."

They went and sat down on a pair of chairs near the fireplace. Bilbo opened the book and began scrutinizing one of the maps. As he did so, he spoke up, his voice full of happiness and joy. "Do you read?"

"My tutors insisted on it when I was younger. But I find that I haven't much time for it like I used to," Thorin admitted as he sat back and enjoy the comfortable silence that was only broken by the fire cracking, the turning of pages from the book, and their own voices.

"That's a shame. Really, it is. I find that books are most wonderful. I'm sure that dwarves wouldn't normally see it that way though," Bilbo said, looking up at Thorin and flash a small, almost shy smile, hoping that he hadn't offended his husband. But Thorin merely gave him a small smile in return and a slight nod.

"Most dwarves do not bother with such things. It is uncommon to find a dwarf with a particular interest in reading. Balin and Ori are one of a few that I know personally who enjoy the hobby," Thorin said.

"I noticed the first time I accompanied you on your rounds that there were very few dwarves in here," Bilbo said, his eyes focused on the pages before him.

"Us dwarves prefer battle or mining or jewels over books. It is in our nature. However, every kingdom must have a written history and Erebor is no different. Although few come to the library, it has its uses and is part of the kingdom. Therefore, it remains," Thorin said quite firmly. His tone made Bilbo look up.

"Are there some who…wish for the library to be eliminated?" he asked, a small frown worming its way onto his face.

"There were some on the Council who thought that remodeling the library was a vast waste of time and resources. But I wouldn't budge on the matter," Thorin told him.

"Did…did it create any unneeded tension?" Bilbo asked, suddenly feeling bad. He hadn't be able to attend any of the meetings or rounds, but he knew that the Council would rather focus on more dwarvish things like drinking and mining instead of book keeping. It would make matters very awkward if they held a grudge against Bilbo for the remodeling of the library, especially since it was Bilbo who made sure things got done during the meetings.

"Whatever tension there had been was quelled when I refused to back down. They may be the Council, but I am king," Thorin answered him.

"There's more to being king than getting your way all of the time, you know," Bilbo said, a teasing smile on his face. Thorin's blue eyes glinted and he returned the grin with one of his own.

"But it does come in handy," Thorin answered.

They sat in the library together, enjoying the quiet and the occasional conversation as Bilbo poured over whatever book caught his fancy. It was a lovely time and Bilbo wished that it could go on forever. However, he knew that it couldn't last even though he wanted it to. Thorin and he would have to return to their duties and that meant that Bilbo would have to push aside the light, fluttery feeling he got whenever he thought about how much effort Thorin had put into this. While they may have been married, it was more likely than not that Thorin did this as a gesture of friendship and perhaps as even a thank you for Bilbo saving his life. That was all and nothing more.

So why did Bilbo feel so sad when he thought that?


	16. XV

~…~

XV

~…~

As the Royal Scribe, Ori spent most of his time pouring over books and documents, writing and reading and researching. He attended the meetings when documents, arrangements, or treaties needed to be drafted and he kept a record of everything discussed just in case anyone ever needed to reference them in the future. Ori took notes during the meetings and wrote up the final drafts in the library, which oftentimes remained mostly deserted as most dwarves didn't have time for such mundane hobbies such as reading or writing (and there were times when he was surprised that some dwarves even knew how to read let alone write). Because of his fondness for writing, reading, and illustrating, Ori was considered quite odd and queer even though he had a nice beard of his own and was just as much a dwarf as Dwalin was. But that didn't mean that he didn't have to endure taunts and insults.

While his older brothers, Dori and Nori, kept most of the talking and whispering at bay, Ori was no fool. He could hear very well, thank you very much, and he wasn't ignorant to what was often said about him. It didn't bother him most of the time; he was used to it and he was more than happy to spend his free time amongst books instead of going off and doing other things that normal dwarves were supposed to do. The times when it did bother him, however, he holed up in the library and stuck his nose in a book. And now, for the first time ever, he had company, pleasant company.

Bilbo loved books and maps just as much as Ori did. When they would talk, it was often about books they had read and that got them going into tales about other things that happened to them in their lives. They had formed a friendship that they both needed and Ori liked to believe that it made them both feel better in their own perspective skins. Because of the bond of friendship that they shared, Ori liked to think that he knew things and noticed things about Bilbo just by observing and listening to him. He noticed a lot of things by nature anyway and managed to capture them in pictures or words.

That was why he was able to notice as plain as day the looking of love, longing, and sadness on Bilbo's face whenever he talked about, talked to, or even saw Thorin.

At first, it had confused Ori. Bilbo and Thorin were, after all, married, and even though it was an arranged marriage, surely they had some feelings for one another. From what he had gathered from Fili and Kili and from watching Thorin and Bilbo interact, Ori could confidently say that the king and the hobbit were definitely friends. Yet he couldn't understand why they were only friends. Both Thorin and Bilbo had the same looking of longing and love and sadness about them, but he couldn't understand why and it frustrated them. It was quite obvious to him that they were both unhappy and that they both cared for one another deeply. So what was the issue?

Surely, it couldn't be that they were insecure. That made little sense to Ori. Thorin was the King Under the Mountain! He was confident and passionate and strong and everything that a dwarf and a king should be. Bilbo was practically Thorin's opposite; he was very clever and quick and modest, which balanced Thorin out completely. But he was also stubborn and passionate as well and strong in and of his own right. So insecurity couldn't be a factor in why they were unhappy and clearly not together (even though they were married).

Perhaps it was because of cultural differences? But Ori didn't think that that was the case either. While dwarves weren't the brightest of the lot – something that Ori admitted freely for it was true – they weren't ignorant of other races and their cultures. Yes, very few dwarves knew of hobbit customs and many had never even seen a hobbit before, but understanding hobbits wasn't all that difficult. From what Bilbo had told Ori, and from what Ori understood, hobbits were simple creatures who valued friendship and family and love over jewels and gems and gold. When he compared that to his own love for books, Ori understood it perfectly. And although many dwarves couldn't understand that hobbits didn't understand the dwarvish love of gold and jewels, they could at least understand a hobbit's love of food. So there was middle ground, albeit slim and small.

But Thorin wasn't a stupid dwarf. He could be blinded by the things that he was passionate about, as Balin had often explained to Ori, Fili, and Kili, but he was smart in his own way. Not as smart as Balin or Bilbo, but Thorin was smart. If there was something he wasn't sure about in reference to Bilbo or hobbits in general, Ori liked to think that the king would ask Balin or Bilbo himself. Besides, Gandalf had explained a few things about hobbits to Thorin, so he had to have somewhat of an understanding of them. Therefore, he thought it was safe to rule out cultural differences as a reason why neither Thorin nor Bilbo had confessed their feelings to each other.

And it was quite obvious – to Ori, at least – that Thorin and Bilbo had feelings for one another that went beyond friendship. The looks they gave each other was proof of that. So honestly, he could not find a single reason as to why they hadn't confessed their love for one another. Fili and Kili had told him that they'd find out and would explain it to him later. Whether or not they had actually figured it out, Ori didn't know, but he hoped that things picked up between Bilbo and their King soon. He wasn't sure how much longer he'd be able to sit by and watch the two of them suffer in silence.

~…~

Thorin could spend hours watching Bilbo read.

Seeing the look on the Halfling's face when he was looking for a book to pick out was breathtaking. Watching him as he read page after page, his face full of contentment and happiness, was astonishing and wonderful. Bilbo was still quite young, but when he opened up a book and began reading, he resembled a small child. His eyes would fill with wonder and excitement and the most beautiful smile would spread across his face. Depending on the book he had chosen, Bilbo's face would fill with joy, laughter, sadness, or anger and his eyes would brighten or flash or fill with tears.

It never ceased to amaze Thorin how many expressions could cross his hobbit's face. All of them were just as beautiful as the last one. Above all other emotions that overtook Bilbo's face, however, happiness was the one that was apparent the most. Seeing his face and eyes light up made Thorin's heart beat so fast that it felt as though it were humming, but it was a good feeling and it made him feel good as well. Knowing that Bilbo was happy, knowing that he had helped to make Bilbo happy, made Thorin happy in turn and he wanted nothing more than to keep Bilbo happy.

He liked to think that Bilbo was happy, or as happy as he could be in Erebor. The Lonely Mountain wasn't the Shire and it never would be, but it was his home now and, if nothing else, he loved the library at the very least. Thorin was confident that Bilbo would see the rest of Erebor's beauty in due time.

"Don't you get bored?"

Thorin looked up at the Halfling's question and met Bilbo's eyes. There was a soft smile on his face and his eyes were filled with warmth and curiosity. A small smile spread across his own face as he realized that that look, so full of happiness and love, was directed solely at him. Very few times had anyone ever looked upon him with such feelings and had meant them. His mother and father, his brother and sister, and his nephews were the only ones who ever gave him a look such as that. Balin viewed him as a son, but he still treated him with the respect a king earned and deserved. Dwalin was the same way. As Fili and Kili were the only ones of his immediate family left, Thorin couldn't stop the giddy bubble of happiness that was threatening to burst inside his chest at seeing Bilbo give him such a look.

It wasn't until a few minutes had passed and Bilbo's eyes began to fill with concern that Thorin realized that he hadn't answered his husband's question.

"Bored?" Thorin asked, his small smile vanishing. He felt his cheeks flush, but only just. In the light of the fireplace, it'd be almost impossible to see. However, he knew that Bilbo had a talent for being able to pinpoint things with little difficulty.

"Of sitting in here with me whilst I read. Surely there must be other things you do in your free time. Important things and all that," Bilbo said, his own face flushing slightly.

"Whatever matters of importance that needed to be attended were dealt with while I was on my rounds or at the meeting," Thorin answered. Bilbo's eyebrows rose in surprise.

"Really? And what made the Council work so hard to completely resolve an issue during a meeting?" Bilbo asked. "Usually it takes quite a few meetings for any real progress to be made."

"My patience with how the meetings have been progressing is coming to an end," Thorin admitted, feeling a headache form just thinking about those horrible Council meetings. "My grandfather and father both despised how the meetings went on, but neither of them did anything to make them better. I may be King but my experience with politics is quite…limited."

"Limited? How so?" Bilbo asked, his eyes still filled with worry as he sat up. Thorin gave him another small smile.

"This may come as a surprise to you, but I have the uncanny ability to block things out that I'd rather not here. Or, rather, that I have little interest in. As long as my people are happy and Erebor is strong, I don't need to know how to conduct negotiations and sign treaties," Thorin told him.

"I…did not know that. But I do now," Bilbo said softly.

"As for what I usually do with my free time, I do what I wish. Right now, I wish to spend some time with you, which I find is not boring," Thorin said. At that, Bilbo's face turned red and he looked away.

For a moment, Bilbo looked as though he was about to say something. Actually, it looked as though he wanted to say something. For some reason, that made Thorin's heart beat faster. He hadn't imagined the love in Bilbo's eyes; he knew for certain that it was there. And part of him couldn't help but wonder if the Halfling was, indeed, in love with him. While he wasn't sure, Thorin had spotted tell tale signs. Blushing. Sharing close proximity (they always sat close together in the library and the dining hall). Showing worry and concern over Thorin's well being. Of course, friends often did the same thing, but he had plenty of time to think on this (with help from Fili, Kili, and Balin of course). Perhaps there was hope…

But Bilbo didn't say anything. Instead, he returned to his book and a slightly uncomfortable silence fell upon them. As the minutes ticked by, the uncomfortable atmosphere melted away into a much more comfortable one and Thorin found himself studying Bilbo once more. His husband looked so peaceful and happy… He wanted nothing more than to pull Bilbo into his arms and never let him go, lavishing him with kisses and braiding his curly hair. As he thought about it, his hands twitched and they almost reached up to grab hold of the hobbit on their own accord.

Thorin stopped them from doing so. He'd rather not do anything to upset Bilbo, especially since he had almost done so just a few minutes ago. Perhaps he would have to consult Balin once more on this matter because Thorin wasn't sure what he was doing wrong. Whatever it was, he wanted to correct it because he wasn't sure if he'd be able to stop himself the next time he wished to hold Bilbo in his arms.


	17. XVI

~…~

XVI

~…~

"I do not know what to do, Balin," Thorin confessed to his most trusted advisor and one of his closest friends. Balin had been in his life since before he could remember and had taught him many things. But all of his lessons could not prepare the Dwarf King for a matter such as love and wooing.

"My feelings for Bilbo have only intensified and I am not sure what to do or how to go about things. I'm not even sure if he feels the same way as I do," Thorin added, sounding very much like the unsure young dwarf that Balin had watched grow up into a fine king.

Balin couldn't help but smile and chuckle to himself. Having known Thorin all of his life, Balin had come to know him very well. With just one look, he could tell if Thorin was angry or frustrated or merely annoyed. Just by listening to his voice, Balin could tell whether or not Thorin had gotten enough sleep or if he had a headache. However, he could say in all honesty that he had never seen Thorin so worked up over one person before in his whole entire life. Family, of course, did not count in Balin's mind, although depending on what day he was asked he would admit that Fili and Kili could manage quite a stir from Thorin. Sometimes even just by sharing a smile and giggling.

When he had first met Bilbo Baggins, Balin had thought that he seemed like a nice enough lad with a right and ready mind for learning even though he was not a dwarf and had known little about dwarves and their customs. He took an immediate liking towards him and he had believed that Thorin had been interested in the hobbit as well. Needless to say, Balin felt very proud to say that he had been right. There was something about Bilbo that had drawn Thorin to him immediately, although he wouldn't admit it to anyone, not even himself. And Balin could see as plain as day that there were feelings far stronger than friendship between Thorin and Bilbo.

He wanted to smack them both on the head. Both Thorin and Bilbo loved one another and yet they both thought that neither one could feel that way. It made Balin shake his head. Why they hadn't been able to see it for themselves yet, he didn't know. However, if they were having issues seeing what was staring them both in the face so obviously, then he would help them both as much as he could.

"My King, have you ever thought to simply ask Master Baggins about this?" Balin asked Thorin. The King Under the Mountain looked tired and drained and at a complete loss.

"I have contemplated it. But I have also thought of how humiliated I would be if I told him and it turned out that he did not return my feelings. I don't think I would be able to handle it if Bilbo didn't share my feelings," Thorin said, his brow furrowed and his eyes full of uncertainty. His expression was much like the one when he found out just how ill his father, Thrain, was.

"I don't think your feelings would go unrequited, my King," Balin reassured him gently. At that, Thorin looked up at him and met his gaze. Apart from uncertainty, there was fear shining in his blue eyes and Balin felt a sense of relief. Being afraid was not cowardly; knowing fear and being able to face it head on was, in Balin's opinion, what made a brave soul brave.

"And what makes you so sure of that?" Thorin asked him, his voice gruff. Balin smiled kindly at him and he was reminded of the times when Thorin was his pupil and asked many questions, curious and desiring an answer.

"Trust me on this, laddie, as you often do. I have seen the way to look at Master Baggins, with eyes full of kindness and love and longing. And I have also seen how he looks at you the same way," Balin explained. "The fear and uncertainty you feel are only natural, but you need not be afraid or uncertain."

"A king should not be afraid of anything," Thorin mutters, reciting from memory what Thrain had often said himself. Balin, although very loyal and very supportive, thought that such a phrase was rather foolish.

"No, laddie. A king who does not know fear is a foolish king indeed. And you, Thorin, are no fool," Balin said.

Neither of them said anything for a little while. Balin allowed his words to sink in and he gave Thorin as much time as he needed to think things through and sort out all that he needed to sort out. A comfortable silence settled over them, as if often did, and Balin hummed to himself quietly, hoping that his words had had their desired effect on his king and friend. He knew that Thorin was intelligent enough to figure things out on his own. While he certainty wasn't the brightest, he wasn't the dimmest either. All that Thorin needed was guidance and, on occasion, a firm grip to help steer him in the right direction. Sometimes clipping him on the ear helped out as well, although it has been many a year his Balin had the need to do that.

"What should I tell Bilbo if I decide to confess my feelings for him?" Thorin asked.

"The truth, preferably," Balin answered simply. And, really, the answer was quite obvious, wasn't it?

Thorin snorted and sat back in his throne. They were the only two in the throne room at the moment, what with the Council meeting having drawn to a close and Dwalin taking Fili and Kili to the training room for more practice. "I knew that much. But I doubt that he would appreciate me being blunt and straightforward," Thorin told him, looking off to the side.

"Oh, I'm not entirely sure about that, my King," Balin said. "Hobbits, from what I've learned and from what Gandalf has said, are simple folk who enjoy simple things. Perhaps beating around the bush about your feelings would only serve to confuse him and might even put him off."

"Put him off? What do you mean?" Thorin asked, turning back to look at him.

"As I said before, hobbits are simple folk. If you try to confess your love to Bilbo by using flowery words and phrases, you might confuse him. Confusing him about something as important as this might make him think that you're mocking him or being insensitive. Best to be honest and open and straight to the point to avoid that," Balin told him.

"Very well, then. If Bilbo will better understand that way, then that is what I shall do," Thorin stated firmly, looking relieved yet nervous, anxious yet excited. Balin gave him a smile and a nod.

"I wish you luck then, laddie," he said.

"Thank you for your council, Balin," Thorin said. "I cannot express enough how much I value our friendship and your wisdom."

At that, Balin gave him a warm, fatherly smile and said, "It's no trouble at all, laddie. But you're welcome nonetheless."

~…~

Fili and Kili had decided that enough was enough. They were tired of Uncle brooding and sulking even more so than he had before Bilbo arrived at Erebor. They were tired of seeing Bilbo so at a loss as of what to do. They were tired of the way the two of them looked at each other but never did anything about it! And they were determined to do something about it.

A week had passed since Uncle had taken Bilbo to see the newly reconstructed library and, unfortunately, it didn't appear as though things had progressed whatsoever. That greatly frustrated Fili and Kili and they didn't like being frustrated as it hindered their plans for practical jokes and general mischief. Plus, it gave Kili an awful headache and his whining in turn gave Fili an awful headache. And Mahal forbid if Dwalin heard either of them whining or complaining about headaches because his cure for a headache is more bloody training. Who needed that when there were other pressing matters to attend to?

So, they had begun to plot and plan ways to get Uncle and Bilbo closer or, preferably, to get them to confess their undying love for one another. Fili had suggested that Uncle should just do what most dwarves did and court Bilbo as was tradition (because, honestly, that seemed to be the easiest solution and the one that didn't involve as much thinking). Kili had been all for it until he brought up the fact that Bilbo was a hobbit and not a dwarf. That lead them to wonder if Bilbo, being a hobbit, would even understand that Uncle was courting him the way dwarves courted one another (learning a trade, jewels, gems, possessive behavior, and the like). In the end, they both came to the conclusion that Bilbo, although very clever and smart, would not in fact realize what was going on should Uncle court him the dwarven way.

Kili mentioned that perhaps it would suit Uncle best to court Bilbo the way that hobbits courted one another. Fili perked up at that and they began to get excited and giddy before they realized that neither of them didn't know how hobbits courted one another and that, more than likely, Thorin didn't know how either. And then they realized that Thorin didn't really need to court Bilbo regardless because they were already married. That caused them both to sulk and hunker down in their chairs, pouting like children.

After a couple of minutes, Kili perked up and he straightened up in his chair. Fili watched his brother, wondering what on earth his mind had concocted to make him so merry and gleeful. Kili grabbed his arm and shook it, bouncing up and down on his chair, his brown eyes wide and bright.

"I've got it! I've got it!" he exclaimed excitedly.

"What've you got, Kili?" Fili asked, feeling a bit tired all of a sudden.

"What if you and I set up a private dinner for Uncle and Bilbo?" Kili asked, the big smile on his face never faltering. Fili sat up in his own chair and started smiling.

"Just the two of them? In a romantic setting where they could talk about anything?" he asked.

"Anything being how they feel about each other," Kili added.

"If it's laid out correctly, they'll have no other choice but to indulge in the romantic atmosphere," Fili said mostly to himself.

"Which means that they'll be telling each other how much they love one another before they even begin eating," Kili finished. They shared a look, big smiles on their faces. And then Fili's smile faltered.

"But how are we going to arrange all of that?" he asked. Both he and Kili began to think and it was Kili who answered.

"Balin! Balin will surely help us. He's noticed how they look at each other too. I'm sure he'd be more than willing to help us," Kili answered.

"And I know that Bofur and Bilbo are friends, so getting him on board won't be an issue," Fili added.

"We could have Bombur cook them something special. Maybe one of Bilbo's favorite meals or something?" Kili suggested.

"And Mister Dwalin and Ori could help us set the room up and stuff," Fili said. They shared another grin.

"We are amazing," Kili said, leaning on the arm of his chair and grinning like a fool.

"You know, Uncle would be rather impressed with our ability to strategize, I think," Fili replied.

"Or he'd yell at us for not applying it to our training," Kili added.

"Oh well. Come on, Kili," Fili said, hoisting his brother to his feet. "We've got to go and tell Balin about our plan."

Before either one of them could say any more, they were out of the room, giggling madly, and began their hunt for Balin.

~…~

"Oh, honestly, you don't need to push!" Bilbo protested as Kili urged him towards Royal wing towards Thorin's room. He hadn't been told why he was needed so urgently at Thorin's bed chamber or what it was about, but he wasn't sure it was a good thing. Judging by the grin on Kili's face, he was certain that he was bound to be in for some trouble of some sort.

"You were taking too long," Kili countered, his grin still in place.

"I was walking!" Bilbo exclaimed as they drew closer and closer to Thorin's chamber.

"Yes, but not fast enough. This is an urgent call, remember?" Kili asked him. Bilbo rolled his eyes.

"I remember, all right. I remember you wrenching me from my book and dragging me out of the library without giving me a chance to blink. That's what I remember," Bilbo grumbled. "Besides, you still haven't told me what this is all about."

"That's because I don't know, Uncle Bilbo," Kili told him. Bilbo wasn't sure if he was telling the truth or not (probably not).

Within minutes, they were standing outside of Thorin's bed chamber. The only time Bilbo had ever been inside was on their wedding night. Just thinking about it made his face heat up and he tried his best to quell such thoughts. That night, he had thought that he'd never want to give himself to Thorin. All he had thought was that they would become friends and nothing more. Now though, the thought of Thorin taking him made his stomach do flips and flops and flooded his veins with a fire so passionate and overwhelming that he thought he would spontaneously combust.

Kili knocked on the door and Bilbo could hear Thorin and Fili's voices from within. Heavy boot steps approached the door and a second later, Fili's face same into view as one of the chamber doors was opened. He beamed at them and opened the door wider so that they could enter.

"Ah! There you are, brother. Just in time. Uncle was getting irritated,' Fili said as Bilbo made his way into the room.

"Was he now?" Kili said, giving Thorin a grin. Bilbo saw that Thorin did indeed look irritated and annoyed and he wondered if he had a headache. He often had one when he had to deal with Fili and Kili's antics. Speaking of which, neither of them came further into the room; instead, they were hanging about at the door.

"Now that the two of you are here, we'll leave you to it," Fili said as he edged out of the room.

"Everything's already been set up. You two just relax and have a nice supper," Kili added.

"And don't do anything we wouldn't do," Fili injected as the door began to close.

"And be sure to keep it down. There are other people who are going to bed here shortly. Wouldn't want them to have to listen to the two of you all night now, would we?" Kili finished in time. The door closed with a definite bang.

Bilbo turned back around and finally realized that there was a dinner table in the middle of the room. With candles on it and one of his favorite dishes (fish, carrots, and potatoes seasoned with lemon and peppers and other spices) and two chairs. Actually, looking around the room, Bilbo realized that there were candles everywhere and that there was a very pleasant fragrance that reminded him of the flowers that grew in the Shire. His eyes widened as the reality of what was happening hit him and as he looked up at Thorin, who looked troubled and uncertain and afraid (something that sacred him immensely), Bilbo found himself wanting to run away as fast as his legs could carry him


	18. Chapter 18

~…~

XVII

~…~

He was breathing loudly. Very loudly, as a matter of fact. The sound of it was quite deafening and Bilbo was worried that Thorin would mention it any second. Time stopped; everything stopped. Nothing moved forward; nothing moved at all. Panic began to surge inside of him and it threatened to drown him quickly, very quickly. Something within him screamed that something was about to happen, something big, and he wasn't sure what it was or if he was ready for it.

Wait. No. No, that wasn't quite right.

Bilbo knew exactly what it was. It was the same thing he had been telling himself could never, ever happen even though it was. He wasn't blind; in denial, oh yes, but not blind. Feigning ignorance every time Thorin looked at him like that, with so much love and sadness and pain and too many emotions to count on both hands, was easy enough. Telling himself that there was no way Thorin could be in love with him and that the feelings Bilbo saw in his blue eyes were those of friendship was even easier. When it came down to it, Thorin was the King of Erebor, and although Bilbo was a very respectable hobbit indeed, he would never be good enough for a king such as Thorin. Besides, Bilbo wasn't in love with Thorin; they were only friends.

They were all lies, of course.

How could he truly believe that the love he had for Thorin was merely that of friendship? And how could he truly believe that Thorin saw him only as a friend? The answers to both of those questions were rather simple really: he didn't truly believe that the spark between them was one of mere friendship. Oh, they were friends, that was for sure, but they were also so much more than that. While Bilbo had managed to lie to himself for quite a while now, he found that it was getting harder and harder to do, especially since most of his time was spent with Thorin. He also knew that he was tired of hiding it from himself and from Thorin.

More than anything, he wanted to tell Thorin how he truly felt. He wanted to scream it out loud until he was blue in the face. Bilbo wanted to grabbed Thorin by his tunic and shake him senseless because, honestly, he was tired of running circles around one another in a cruel, torturous dance. And he would have told Thorin about how he felt before now, he truly would have, but he wasn't sure if Thorin would push him away or open up to him. It would be pathetically easy for Thorin to tell Bilbo that he didn't feel the same way (even though Bilbo knew that he did).

Dwarves, Bilbo had come to learn, weren't the most open of races in regards to their emotions. Oh, they were passionate about gold and jewels and the marvelous trinkets that they crafted. They were passionate and food and drink, song and making merry. But very rarely had he seen a dwarf willingly discuss their feelings. Even Ori, who was quite sensitive, was reluctant to cry openly when someone mentioned how odd he was for a dwarf. If Thorin couldn't, nay, wouldn't be honest with him as a friend, as a husband, then Bilbo didn't know what he would do. Bilbo wasn't sure if he'd be able to talk sense into Thorin or not. He was very stubborn after all, but perhaps Bilbo could just tell him that he already knew about Thorin's feelings.

Of course, simply letting Thorin know that Bilbo knew about his love could back fire in his face. There was always the possibility that Thorin would continue to deny it and Bilbo wasn't sure if he'd be able to handle that. Never before had he ever cared so deeply for someone before. Yes, he had loved his mother and father, but that was not the same thing, the same love, as what he held for Thorin. Having never been in love before and having only ever read about it in books, Bilbo had been very unsure and very confused, as well as in denial. But there was no doubt about it now, not in his mind.

Every time he saw Thorin, his heart would beat so fast in his chest that it would hurt and threaten to burst. His hands would sweat and he would feel so very hot, smoldering, as a matter of fact. And everything around him would fade away into nothing until Thorin was all that was left. Most of the time, Bilbo could push that feeling aside and ignore it, for he had had much practice at doing so and was very good at doing it. Recently, however, it had been a bit harder to do. Oh, Bilbo could still do it, but it took longer than it did before in order to put that effective mask back on and run in the other direction.

But there was nowhere to run, now. Fili and Kili had seen to that. Bilbo was locked in Thorin's bed chambers with Thorin and what was obviously supposed to be a private, romantic meal for the two of them. And he couldn't run and he couldn't hide and part of him didn't want to run and hide anymore.

"Thorin…"

"Bilbo…" They both spoke at the same time. As if his face wasn't red enough, Bilbo felt his blush worsen. Thorin offered him a very small, very forced smile, probably in the hopes of calming Bilbo's already frazzled nerves. It didn't work.

"This….is my nephew's doing, I'm afraid. Not my own," Thorin admitted, looking around at the many burning candles.

"Oh, I figured as much. The two of them are quite cunning when they work at it," Bilbo said, unable to stop the irrational small pang of hurt he felt at knowing that Thorin didn't have anything to do with what was going on. It made sense only to his heart, which apparently spoke a language that Bilbo had difficulty deciphering at times, like right now.

"They did not work alone. I suspect that Balin is also involved," Thorin told him.

"He does have the brains for such an operation, doesn't he?" Bilbo replied, his heart pounding furiously in his ears. Surely, Thorin could hear it. How could he not? He could probably see it trying to burst through Bilbo's chest.

"It's not as though it will help. This is all a great hindrance," Thorin grumbled loud enough for Bilbo to hear.

As soon as the words reached his ears, something within Bilbo snapped. His heart paused and everything went quiet. And then, he felt angry and offended and upset and hurt and confused. A hindrance? This….them...he…was a hindrance? It was quite obvious – to Bilbo at least – that Fili, Kili, and Balin knew about the feelings they shared for each other but were so very reluctant to admit. Being locked up in the bed chamber with Thorin was their obvious attempt at getting the two of them to talk or make headway or something. And Thorin, stubborn and blind as always, believed that this, that them getting closer was a hindrance? Yes, Bilbo was aware that he wasn't being very rational, but his heart had taken over and told his brain to hunker down until it was ready to hand over control. Therefore, he was not responsible for the words that tumbled out of his mouth. Not in the slightest.

"A hindrance? I'm a hindrance. Is that what you mean to say, Thorin?" Bilbo asked him, his eyes narrowed and his anger obvious, albeit irrational. Thorin stopped pacing and looking around and gazed at him, his eyes wide with surprise.

"What….?"

"Are you so obtuse that you cannot see what Balin, Fili, and Kili are trying to do? Or is it that you simply do not want me the way that I want you?" Bilbo continued, glaring angrily and defiantly up at the King Under the Mountain.

"Bilbo… What are you talking about? 'Want me the way that I want you'? I don't…" Thorin, for the first time since Bilbo had known him, seemed utterly dumbstruck and confounded.

"Don't play that card with me, Thorin. You're not so blind. Surely, you've seen the way I look upon you. Just like I've seen the way you look upon me," Bilbo stated firmly, gaining confidence through his anger.

"I do not know what you're talking about," Thorin growled at him, his blue eyes narrowing and meeting Bilbo's.

"Oh, yes, you do, Thorin, son of Thrain. You know exactly what I'm talking about." Bilbo was well aware of how loud they were getting and, on some level, he knew that Fili and Kili were listening to every word being said. He didn't care.

"I think you are mistaken, Master Baggins. We may be married, but you are my dear friend. Surely-"

"Don't you even dare go down that path!" Bilbo cut Thorin off. "Don't you lie to me, Thorin. Don't you ever lie to me! I know that I am not a dwarf nor do I know how to handle a sword or an axe or anything of the sort. But I'll have you know that I am a Baggins of Bag End, a very respectable hobbit indeed, and although that may not mean a lot to you dwarves, it surely matches the status of a king such as yourself!"

They were standing close now, very close. Bilbo could feel Thorin's body heat radiating off of him, almost as though the Dwarf King were a sun, the sun of the Lonely Mountain, and he found himself being drawn closer and closer to it. He wanted to reach out and touch Thorin; he wanted to pull him down by his braids and kiss him; he wanted to tangle his small fingers in Thorin's hair and tug and pull and yank on it until he was thrown onto the bed and covered with Thorin's towering, powerful form.

Thorin glared down at him and Bilbo returned the glare with just as much heat. Things weren't going the way Fili and Kili had planned, but at least Thorin had stopped denying that they were just friends. And then….

~…~

Balin knew as soon as Kili burst into the library, interrupting his conversation with Ori, that things had gone terribly wrong. The young dwarf prince looked like he had jogged a mile and he was panting and heaving and leaning on the door for support, his brown eyes blown wide with concern and fear and guilt.

"Balin!" he gasp in between breaths. "Bilbo…. Uncle!... F-Fight…"

That was all Balin needed to hear. With Ori at his heels, he stormed out of the library and made his way as fast as he could towards Thorin's bed chamber. Even before he entered the hallway, he could hear Bilbo's voice yelling at Thorin. Never before had he heard the hobbit yell or scream or shout in anger. Yes, there had been many a time where he had scolded Fili and Kili and rightfully so. And there had been a few times during the various Council meetings when he had had to use a stern tone of voice, but he had never yelled, he had never screamed or shouted. But he was now and that made Balin pick up his pace.

"I am a Baggins of Bag End, a very respectable hobbit indeed, and although that may not mean a lot to you dwarves, it surely matches the status of a king such as yourself!" Bilbo sounded angry and upset and on the verge of tears. Balin wondered for a brief moment what Thorin had said or done to upset the gentle hobbit so much before he barked out an order at Fili.

"Unlock this door now, laddie!" Balin's sharp eyes turned towards Fili, who was looking just as frightened and nervous as his younger brother. With shaking hands, he inserted the key into its key hole and unlocked Thorin's bed chamber.

As soon as it was unlocked, Balin and Fili opened the doors and they stepped inside with Kili and Ori behind them. What they saw before them made them stop dead in their tracks. Ori gasped behind him and Balin could see out of the corner of his eye that the young dwarf's face was very red. Fili and Kili both looked shocked and speechless. Balin himself was quite taken by surprise.

There, standing before them, were Thorin and Bilbo, engaged in a passionate kiss. At the sound of their intrusion, a small, high pitched, embarrassed squeak escaped from Bilbo's throat and he pulled away from Thorin, who looked rather annoyed at the interruption. His blue eyes narrowed at them and his arms wrapped around Bilbo's smaller body, pulling him close and shielding him from their curious stares.

"Well, it appears that we have interrupted their evening," Balin stated as calmly as he could. "We'll just leave the two of you be. Let's go, laddies." With that, he stepped backwards, forcing Fili, Kili, and Ori to do the same and closed the door. As soon as the doors were closed, the talking began.

"Did you see that?!" Kili asked excitedly, all traces of fear and worry gone from his brown eyes.

"It worked! Our plan actually worked!" Fili said, sounding surprised yet proud.

"Actually, I believe that your plan backfired. They managed to take the step they needed through arguing, as do most dwarf couplings," Balin corrected them gently.

"How romantic…" Ori sighed, looking lost in thought and with a small, happy smile on his face. "To become so upset that one throws away all cares and stakes everything on a kiss…"

"You should try it some time, Ori," Fili said, wagging his eyebrows.

"Oh yes. I'm sure Mister Dwalin would love to get tongue tied with you," Kili added, grinning.

"That's quite enough of that, boys," Balin said. "Now, let's leave your Uncle and Mister Baggins alone. I'm sure they would appreciate the privacy. I will let the Council know that the king is not to be interrupted for the remainder of the night."

Feeling quite pleased with himself and very happy that Thorin and Bilbo seemed to have finally made some significant progress, Balin made his way towards the dining hall where he knew the members of Council would be.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I hope that you guys like this chapter. R&R. Enjoy!

~…~

XVIII

~…~

As much as Thorin wished he had more time to tell Bilbo how he felt, he certainly couldn't deny that the hobbit looked stunning when angry. He certainly couldn't deny that he was utterly dumbfounded when Bilbo called him out on his, apparently, hidden feelings. Thorin had not been expecting that and he had thought that he would have more time figuring out how to tell Bilbo how he felt about him. But being locked in his bed chambers with the Halfling by his nephews had not helped him at all and his mind became a jumbled mess of panic and confusion. And then they had gotten into that argument which ended in that kiss, that amazing, passionate, fiery kiss.

Granted, that was before they were interrupted by Balin, Fili, Kili, and Ori storming into the bed chamber as though a fire had broken out. To say that it had annoyed Thorin would be to say that Fili and Kili had a relatively small rebellious streak. However, he supposed that it was worth it for he got to see a small, embarrassed smile on his hobbit's face and that was a lovely sight to see indeed. After they had shared the smile, they sat down and ate their dinner and managed, somehow, to have a conversation that didn't cause anymore embarrassment or anger.

Thorin couldn't help but feel like a young dwarf again, excited and happy and nervous all at once. Never before had he felt like this; never before had he been in love with another. It was just as terrifying as it was incredible because there wasn't just love between them, that bound them together, but a life debt. He was not stupid; he knew of life debts and what they entailed and the bonds that formed when one was repaid. More often than not, the two parties often fell in love. Sometimes, there was more that happened that few heard of or knew about. Many, many years ago, Thorin had read during his tutorship under Balin about a pair of lovers who, after the life debt between them had been repaid, could tell where their other half was at at all times. Another story spoke of how another couple could decipher each other's thoughts, but only the simpler ones (how much of that story is actually true, Thorin didn't know).

It was quite apparent to him and others as well that he shared an already strong bond with Bilbo. He didn't want to do anything that would disturb that. But thinking about how Bilbo had yelled at him, Thorin was confident that if he did do something stupid or wrong, he'd be told about it and, hopefully, he would be able to fix it if Bilbo was willing.

"Stop thinking. You're giving me a headache and that's quite inconsiderate of you, you know," Bilbo said, interrupting Thorin's thoughts. He looked over at his hobbit and gave him a small smile.

"Would you be less cross with me if I told you that it was you I was thinking so hard about?" Thorin asked.

Bilbo blinked and flushed slightly. He looked so stunning when he did so and it caused an urge in Thorin that he had never felt before. An urge to protect the hobbit as though he were more precious than any jewel; an urge to ensure that no other dared to look upon him with lust in their eyes; and an urge to claim him as his and his alone. Controlling such urges took great strength, and it was a strength that was dwindling with every passing day.

"No, I wouldn't be. But I do suppose I ought to thank you. That is, assuming your thoughts were pleasant ones," Bilbo quipped. Thorin chuckled.

"Of course they were pleasant thoughts, my Halfling," Thorin reassured him. Laughter and loud voices erupted in the dining hall, but Thorin and Bilbo were in their own private bubble. At least, he believed they were.

"I'm not sure pleasant is the right word, Uncle," Fili said, smirking at the two of them.

"Perhaps a better word would be…'arousing'," Kili added.

"'Electrifying' would be another," Fili mused aloud, his smirk widening.

"'Stimulating' even," Kili said. Fili and Kili shared a look before they started laughing loudly.

Thorin sighed heavily. He wished that his nephews would mature sooner rather than later. Although he loved them as though they were his own, Thorin felt a great sense of relief and revenge whenever he made them train with Dwalin. Of course, they were far better now than they were a few years ago. And, thankfully, it seemed as though Bilbo was having a positive influence on them; whenever something went wrong because of one of their stupid pranks and Bilbo ended up getting a headache or a scratch or something, they practically flung themselves at his feet and begged for forgiveness. While Thorin had told Bilbo not to forgive them so easily, his husband rarely ever listened to him.

"Tell us, Uncle, will you be 'stimulating' Bilbo sometime here soon?" Kili asked, his and Fili's heads bobbing up and down at they both snickered at the question.

Bilbo, who was taking a drink when Kili asked the question, started choking and coughing. Balin thumped him a few times on the back and when Bilbo lifted his hand to signal that he was fine, Thorin could see that his face was a bright red. Thorin sent them a cool glare and they both shut up. Balin frowned at them, his disproval written clearly on his face. Dwalin, further down, looked amused but he didn't laugh, thank goodness. Honestly, Thorin wasn't sure if he could handle his best friend encouraging his nephews, especially since he'd be training them again tomorrow. Just thinking about it helped Thorin to calm down a little.

"I think it's time for the two of you to return to your rooms. You'll both be reporting to Dwalin bright and early on the morrow," Thorin growled. Fili and Kili both paled and groaned, slouching in their chairs.

"But Uncle!"

"We've been in training for the past three months. When will it end?" Kili pouted and protested loudly.

"It will end when you two decide to grow up and act like adults instead of imbeciles," Thorin said, leveling them with another cool, blue eyed stare. "Now move along or you'll be in even more trouble."

"Can't we just go and pester Ori about him and Dwalin then?" Kili asked, his brown eyes hopeful.

"Move it!" Thorin growled loudly. That made both Fili and Kili scamper away as those orcs were on their heels.

Things calmed down and returned to normal as soon as they left, but Thorin couldn't help but thinking about their words. On their wedding night, Bilbo had told him quite firmly that he wasn't going to lay with someone whom he did not love. Now that they had admitted their feelings for one another, Thorin wondered when his little hobbit would be ready. Not that he was pressuring him into getting into bed; knowing that Bilbo had yet to make love to another gave him a sense of pride, knowing that he would be the first to have him and would therefore belong to him forever. However, there were times when he wasn't sure he could keep to himself, like when he bids Bilbo good night after the hobbit has bathed and is in his night shirt.

Thinking about such things was starting to make his breeches tight and he'd rather not have to explain himself, not after Fili and Kili's lovely questions and comments. Sitting up straighter in his chair, Thorin's blue eyes scanned the room and took in the sight of his people eating, drinking, laughing, and making merry. Their happiness made him content. And then he glanced at Bilbo out of the corner of his eye and knew immediately that the hobbit brought something to him that his people and Erebor couldn't: true happiness.

~…~

"Something must be done!"

"We already have guards stationed at every possible entrance to the Mountain and we have patrols around the clock each and every day."

"Even with increased patrols and manpower the orcs and wargs are still attacking."

"What for?! Why would they attack on patrols and not hold a full-out war?"

"Bolg, Azog's son, is apparently still angered by his father's fall at the hands of Thrain all those years ago."

"But why attack patrols? Surely, they don't think they'd be able to kill many of us, not so close to Erebor. Even those that are slain are very few in number."

"So what are we going to do about it?"

"What can we do about it?"

"What can't we do about it? We have many fine weapons in our armory. Our patrols are armed. When they clash with the orc-warg packs, they fight, and they win."

"It's not as simple as that and you know it!"

"We could up the number of men we send out on patrols. The larger the numbers, the better chance of less coming back injured, or worse."

"The patrols haven't been working thus far. What makes you think that adding more men to the patrols will finally do something?"

Thorin sighed heavily and ran a hand over his face. The Council had been arguing about the orc and warg attacks on the patrols for the past two hours. So far, they haven't made any progress. Or, rather, they've made very little progress. Somehow, he felt even more tired than he had when he first woke up this morning. After sending Fili and Kili to train with Dwalin, Thorin made his way to Bilbo's room to greet him. Seeing his husband in the morning, still in his night clothes and with his hair tousled, made Thorin's heart beat and caused blood to rush downward. But he suppressed the nearly uncontrollable urge to pin Bilbo to his bed and take him then and there for the day ahead of them proved to be quite a busy one.

After his rounds, which Bilbo gladly accompanied him on much to his delight, they made their way to the Council chamber and had been there ever since, listening to the Council argue tirelessly. The only good thing about being in the Council chamber was that Bilbo was with him. Having Bilbo by his side always made him feel more relaxed and confident, like he couldn't do anything wrong, like nothing could touch him, like he was on top of the world. It was a feeling he wasn't used to, but a feeling that he liked. And if things got real bad during the meetings, like right now, Thorin could always look over at Bilbo and smile, because, somehow, Bilbo always managed to get a smile out of him.

"Perhaps it would be best if Thorin met with Thranduil and Bard about this. After all, the orcs and wargs haven't just attacked out patrols but theirs as well," came Bilbo's voice, which caused the members of Council to fall silent. Thorin blinked and looked at him. He hadn't been expecting Bilbo to silence the Council with just a few words. However, he probably should have anticipated it; his Halfling was quite good with words after all.

"What could we possibly learn from elves and men? What could they tell us that we haven't thought of already?" said one elderly Council member, whose dislike for anything dwarvish was made apparent every time he spoke or looked at Bilbo. It angered Thorin and had he known that the other members of the Council would back him, he would've had him removed from the Council.

"Elves are wise and men are practical. If we gather together and put our heads together, a solution to this problem will arise," Bilbo answered him evenly, which made Thorin proud. Did all hobbits have the patience that Bilbo exuded or was it a trait that Bilbo alone possessed?

Before anyone else could say anything, Thorin injected himself into the conversation. "I believe that making use of our allies would benefit us more than hinder us. I shall send word to both Thranduil and Bard about a possible discussion on the matter," Thorin said loudly, with confidence and strength and determine and leaving no room for argument.

The Council agreed, some of the members doing so reluctantly, and with that, the mattered was settled at long last. Bilbo looked up at him, his eyes filled with relief and happiness, the smile on his face blinding. It took Thorin's breath away and he barely even noticed that the Council chamber was slowly emptying. Not that he would care; what use did he have of a Council who couldn't get work done? Nodding at his husband, Thorin stood and caught Balin's gaze from across the room. His old friend looked quite pleased and proud and Thorin knew that he had said and done the right thing. Making his way over to them, Balin clapped Thorin on his shoulder like he had often done when tutoring him.

"Well done, laddie. Both of you," Balin said, giving Bilbo an encouraging smile. "That was a good suggestion, if I do say so myself. And don't mind Foin; he is quite proud of being a dwarf and dislikes anyone who isn't one or hasn't grown a beard, at least."

"Oh, well, I don't mind. Everyone's entitled to their own opinion," Bilbo answered, but his hand, which was captured in Thorin's larger one, squeezed it slightly before relaxing. "Perhaps seeking outside help would benefit everyone."

"Discussing the matter with the elves of Mirkwood and the men of Dale will surely lead to a solution. The sooner we come to one, the better for everyone," Thorin grumbled, still a bit angry at Foin for his disrespect and disregard of his consort.

"I shall send birds to both Thranduil and Bard immediately, my King. As you said, the sooner we come to a solution, the better," Balin said.

"Very well, Balin. Send the birds out. Make sure to inform me at once when the replies return," Thorin instructed. Balin nodded.

"Will do, Sire. I will leave you two it then and will see you at dinner," Balin said. He started heading off down the hallway to the right when one of Dwalin's men came running down the corridor ahead of them. He looked flustered and panicked. Thorin barely recognized him; he was a young dwarf, barely older than Fili actually, and he was still pretty green, even under Dwalin's careful instruction.

"Your Majesty!" he exclaimed with a bow.

"What is it? What's the matter?" Thorin asked, wondering what was so wrong that Dwalin felt the need to send one of his pupils to get him.

"It's your nephews, Your Majesty," the young dwarf told him. At that, Thorin straightened up and became more alert and serious.

"What have they done?" he demanded in a low tone of voice.

"The armory, Sire. They've…they've…" the young dwarf stuttered.

Thorin didn't need to hear anymore. Fearing the worst, he made his way quickly down the hall, heading towards the armory with Bilbo and the young dwarf following behind him. Whatever his nephews had done, it must have been pretty bad if Dwalin felt the need to send word to him. He was not looking forward to what he was about to find.


	20. XIX

~…~

XIX

~…~

Bilbo knew that Thorin had a lot of patience. He had to, what with having to put up with Fili and Kili's antics for their entire lives. And he also knew that Thorin could be stubborn and that he had a temper and that sometimes that temper got the better of him on occasion. But then, he also knew that Thorin was a just and fair ruler and that he would take the time to fix whatever problems plagued his kingdom and his people.

However, Bilbo also knew that the only way Thorin would ever be able to stop Fili and Kili from being, well, themselves would be to chain them up in separate rooms for the rest of their lives – or until they were too old to do much of anything. If he mentioned that to Thorin right then and there, the Dwarf King would probably think that it was a good idea. Bilbo really wouldn't blame him for thinking so if he told Thorin about it, considering the state of the armory.

Yes, he knew that Fili and Kili loved playing pranks above any and all else. And yes, he knew that they could get very out of hand and destroy many things in the blink of an eye. But this…this was a whole new level of chaos and destruction, even for them.

The armory was one of Erebor's largest rooms, which made perfect sense to Bilbo for dwarves, he had come to understand, could fashion all sorts of lovely weapons with jewels and gems embedded in them. He had been to the armory numerous times with Thorin while on his rounds and had seen the magnificent axes with gold and silver handles or with rubies and sapphires and emeralds in them. Swords and daggers had ornate hilts with the same precious gems and jewels encrusted in them. There were shields as well, each with a different design and pattern on them, and various other weapons, all of which looked as though they could easily poke Bilbo's eyes out. They were all beautiful works of art, even though Bilbo thought that they'd look nicer without all of the gems and jewels and precious metals.

Now, all of those priceless weapons were strewn all over the armory or scattered to the winds. Bilbo could see that a few of the axes and swords were cracked or broken, as were many of the shields and the racks that held them up. Armor was littering the floor, unbroken, cracked, or completely torn to pieces – how had they managed that? – and the training poles and mats were completely destroyed. And, somehow, the tapestries that were hanging from the walls of the room were on fire. Some were beyond rescue or repair while other tapestry fires were being contained and controlled or put out. There were a few spots of blood of the floor and Bilbo could see that a number of the dwarves in the room were injured.

And standing alone in the midst of it all were Fili and Kili, both looking thoroughly pale and shaken and as though they were about to be sick.

Bilbo felt as though the two of them should feel very much ashamed of themselves, and they did look ashamed. At the same time, however, he wondered how on earth the two of them managed to destroy the entire armory. Surely such a feat couldn't have been easy. Then again, Fili and Kili managed to make many difficult tasks look fairly simple and easy. What wasn't going to be easy for them, though, was getting out of such a terrible mess, especially considering that most of the weapons had to have been very expensive and perhaps even priceless.

Glancing up at Thorin, Bilbo saw the familiar look of anger that burned inside his bright blue eyes like an ice cold fire; it was a look and a fire that was often directed at the two young dwarves for their antics and mischievous nature. However, there was also a large amount of disappointment; actually, there was more disappointment in Thorin's expression than there was anger. Judging by how Fili and Kili's shoulders slouched and how they seemed to shrink in on themselves, Bilbo guessed that they had seen the disappointment as well. Anger, he supposed, was easier to deal with than disappointment.

"Uncle-" Fili began, but Thorin was quick to cut him off.

"Don't, Fili," Thorin instructed with an eerie sense of calm and collected nerve. Taking a deep breath, Thorin gazed steadily at his two nephews, both of whom cringed back under the gaze, although there was little fire and anger in it.

"I do not understand why you two feel the need to constantly destroy everything around you. Your mother is turning over in her grave, of that I am sure." At the mention of their mother, both Fili and Kili looked grief-stricken and as though they had to fight the urge to cry. Bilbo would have to ask Thorin about their mother later on, but not right now, and not for a little while yet. Thorin continue with, "As nothing I seem to do seems to be getting through to you, I'm going to put you both on patrols of our borders."

Dwalin shifted slightly and Bilbo wondered if the tattooed dwarf was going to say something. He didn't, however, and merely stood there silently and listened to Thorin's words. Bilbo felt a small bubble of concern rise up within him. The patrols were made up of highly trained dwarf warriors who knew how to dispose of orcs and wargs with little to no trouble. Fili and Kili have never been in a battle or out in the field; all they had was training with Dwalin and nothing more. They weren't ready to go out with patrols; even Bilbo knew that they would more than likely crumble under such pressure. But he had no intentions of telling Thorin that; not right then and there, at the very least. Perhaps later on when they had all had the chance to calm down a bit and think rationally.

"You are both old enough to know better than to cause so much destruction of such valuable property. If you two won't grow up on your own, then you'll be put into circumstances that will force maturity upon you," Thorin said, his voice sounding tired and drained yet full of authority and leaving no room for debate. Kili opened his mouth to protest, but Fili elbowed him harshly. With bowed heads, they both nodded.

"Yes, Uncle," they said together.

"Now, help Dwalin clean up this mess," Thorin instructed. He turned to Dwalin and added, "I'll leave in your capable hands."

Dwalin nodded and, looking grave and angry, started barking out orders. Thorin turned to leave and after a moment of watching Fili and Kili scuttle around like frightened little chickens, Bilbo followed after him. Although he understood that the boys needed to be punished for what they did, he couldn't help but feel bad for them. They often did things that got them into trouble and Bilbo initially thought that it was because that that was how they were. And he still believes that, but part of him also thought that, perhaps, maybe, it had something to do with their mother, Lady Dis. From what he had been told, and he had been told quite little, Lady Dis had passed away years ago and had left Fili and Kili to be raised by Thorin. While Thorin loved his nephews dearly and saw them as his own, Bilbo knew that such a responsibility was not without its complications and bad feelings.

Perhaps that was why he felt uneasy with the boys' punishment. Orc and warg attacks on the patrol units were increasing and the number of injuries and casualties were raising with every attack and battle fought. Bilbo knew that, eventually, Fili and Kili would have to enter battle someday and he knew that nothing was going to change that. They were, after all, part of the royal family and were expected to live up to certain expectations, one of which was fighting for and defending Erebor and its people. However, he was worried that they would get injured, seriously injured. A cut or bruise from training practice was one thing; being stabbed in the chest or back or having a limb cut off by an orc's filthy sword was another. What if Fili and Kili didn't come back after a patrol? Or worse, what if they did and were gravely injured or…or dead? Thorin would never forgive himself, Bilbo knew that. And if Bilbo didn't at least bring those possibilities up, he wouldn't forgive himself.

"Thorin?" Bilbo said softly as he walked beside his husband. Thorin looked down at him and Bilbo could see how tired he was.

"You think I was too hard on them?" Thorin asked him. Bilbo's heart clenched and without thinking he reached out and grabbed Thorin's hand, giving it a squeeze before he relaxed his grip and kept hold on it.

"Fili and Kili did a lot of damage and their punishment must fit their crime. However, are you sure that sending them out on patrol is a wise thing?" Bilbo replied. Thorin paused for a moment before he sighed heavily.

"I think it will send them the message of how serious I am when I tell them that they need to grow up and can't remain children forever," Thorin responded. Bilbo nodded in understanding because he did understand. If they were his nephews, which they practically were anyway, by marriage at least, he would want to give them a lesson that would teach them something. However…

"True, but, Thorin, I know that you wouldn't forgive yourself if anything ever happened to them while they were out on patrol," Bilbo said as gently as possible, his hand still holding Thorin's larger one. "I don't want you to do something that you'll regret."

"I know. I thought of that as well, which is why I'm going to make sure that there are many of our warriors with them while they're on patrol. The more warriors with them, the better guarded they will be," Thorin told him. "While they won't coddle Fili and Kili or suffocate them, should any danger arise, they will protect them both with their lives. Of that, I am sure."

Bilbo exhaled in relief and gave Thorin a gentle, encouraging smile. "And I suppose that they have managed to learn at least something from Dwalin and his rigorous training, eh?" he asked, chuckling softly. Thorin laughed as well and gave Bilbo a tiny smile.

"Oh, I am sure that they managed to pick up something. Now, we will see exactly what that 'something' is," Thorin answered him.

They began to walk again, heading down the large corridor and passing many dwarves who were probably on their way to help clean and straighten out the armory. A comfortable silence fell upon the two of them and Bilbo couldn't help but smile. Things had started to get so such better between them. There was no longer an awkward, uncomfortable atmosphere between him and Thorin. Whenever Bilbo wanted to reach out and grab Thorin's hand, as he did so just minutes ago, or whenever Thorin felt the need to rub his back in a gesture of possessiveness (for dwarves, Bilbo had come to learn, were quite possessive of their significant others and didn't appreciate others showing interest in them), they merely did so without second thought.

They didn't often have time to do much else aside from hold hands and kiss, and the latter they did mostly when alone or with the few people they were comfortable with. Oh, but Bilbo knew that Thorin would sometimes get twitchy during meetings between the elves or the men of Dale. It made him smile because he had the feeling that Thorin's twitch was due to the fact that he'd rather do more than hold Bilbo's hand during meetings when an elf or a man was looking at him too much or too closely. He wouldn't he opposed to it if Thorin just reached out and grabbed him and pulled him close, or even force Bilbo onto his lap. That was obviously the Took side of him coming out because a Baggins would never actually approve of such behavior. Just the thought of it exhilarated him and he had to mentally shake himself in order to get such thoughts out of his head. Now was not the time to think of such things. Later on, perhaps, he would think more on it and perhaps even bring it up to Thorin.

For now, however, he had more important things to worry about, such as Fili and Kili going out on patrol and what Thranduil and Bard would say to Thorin's request for a meeting between the three of them. Figuring out a solution on how to be rid of the orcs and wargs would make Thorin and Bilbo both sleep more soundly at night, especially now that Fili and Kili would be patrolling with the other warriors of Erebor.

~…~

Ori made his way to the armory, feeling quite bad that Dwalin had to ensure that everything was cleaned up before he could make it down to supper. Being the Royal Scribe, Ori had to keep records on everything, and the total cost of damage that Fili and Kili had done in the armory was one of those things. From outside the large chamber, he could hear Dwalin's voice barking and shouting orders as well as the voices of many other dwarves who were surely assisting in the cleaning of the destroyed armory. He peeked around the open doorway and saw that, indeed, many dwarves were cleaning up the catastrophe and that Fili and Kili were among them. They looked as though they had been put through the mill and Ori would guess that Dwalin was making sure that they did most of the work and heavy lifting.

Honestly, by looking at the armory and how practically everything was in disrepair, Ori couldn't blame Dwalin for being hard on the boy princes. Most of the tapestries were burned and in tatters. Almost all of the weapons and armor had been cracked or broken into numerous pieces. The entire armory was a complete and utter wreck and Ori knew for certain that Fili and Kili were in big trouble and had probably already been chewed out by their uncle.

Stepping into the armory with his book and quill in hand, Ori made his way over to Dwalin, his heart beating in his chest at a mile a minute. For a while now, he had been thinking about Dwalin more often than not and he knew without a doubt that he was in love with him. There were times when Ori believed that Dwalin had felt the same way. And then, there were times when Ori was sure that Dwalin held very little affection for him at all. After all, Ori was quite a queer and unusual dwarf who proffered books and the library over weapons and fighting and Dwalin, being a skill warrior, wouldn't want anything to do with such an odd dwarf. However, he continued to hope and he eventually wanted to confess how he felt to the older dwarf.

"Um, Mister Dwalin?" Ori said.

"Don' drop that cabinet again, Kili! I'll smack you around if you do it again. You've destroyed enough things fer once day!" Dwalin barked at the younger prince. Clearly, he hadn't heard Ori. So, clearing his throat, Ori tried again.

"M-Mister Dwalin, sir?" he said. Dwalin turned to him and leveled him with a fierce glare that made Ori step back.

"What?! Can' you see that I've other things on my mind? I can' be bothered by you or your stupid books, understand?" Dwalin growled at him.

Ori felt his heart clench in pain and he stepped back, nodding meekly. Turning around, he quickly made his way out of the armory, tears prickling his eyes. No, there was no way that Dwalin felt anything towards him except for maybe annoyance and spite. Almost everyone else regarded him in such a manner, so why not Dwalin as well? But that didn't make Ori feel any better and he rushed to the library, not even realizing that the tears had started to flow freely down his face.


	21. XX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you all so much for the feedback and the support you've been giving me! I appreciate it a lot, I really do. So, here's the next chapter. R&R. Enjoy!

~…~

XX

~…~

"Do you think I'm doing the right thing? Allowing the boys to go out on patrol," Thorin asked Bilbo a few minutes after entering his husband's bed chamber, sitting in his usual chair. It was early morning and Fili and Kili would be going out on their first patrol in a few hours. Bilbo, who had been changing clothes in the wash room, came out and gave him a small smile that made Thorin's stomach toss and turn.

"They need to leave the nest at some point, so to speak," Bilbo responded. "And besides, you did say that there would be enough warriors with them to protect them should danger arise. I'm sure they'll be fine."

"But was it the right thing to do? The right punishment for them?" Thorin pressed. Bilbo made his way over to him, his bare hobbit feet padding softly on the carpet of his chamber, and knelt down beside him, his smaller hand gently grasping Thorin's larger one.

"If sending them out on patrol wasn't the right thing or the right punishment for them, then you would have never even entertained the idea," Bilbo answered him, his eyes shining brightly with honesty and concern and love. Thorin squeezed his hand and gave his hobbit a small, tired smile.

"No matter what the issue is, you always find the right words to say to make things seem better. You do know that, don't you?" Thorin asked him softly. Bilbo smiled a little wider and the tips of his ears turned pink. He looked spectacular and Thorin suddenly felt the insistent urge to pull the Halfling to him and claim him as his and his alone.

Instead, he pulled Bilbo up onto his lap before he could answer and kissed him. Bilbo's lips were soft and warm and parted slightly in surprise. His body went stiff when he was first pulled onto Thorin's lap, but now he relaxed and returned the kiss with just as much fervor as Thorin had. Humming in satisfaction, Thorin's tongue darted out and caressed Bilbo's slightly parted lips, asking permission to enter. A soft moan came from his hobbit as his tongue prodded his moist cavern. Bilbo tasted like tea and honey; it was different and unique and suited him perfectly. He prodded Bilbo's soft tongue with his own and Thorin almost smirked when he felt more than heard Bilbo's squeak of surprise. But then the hobbit, hesitantly and shyly, pressed his tongue back and that made Thorin pull him closer.

A warmth that he was becoming quite familiar with was starting to pool in his stomach and Thorin knew that if he didn't stop kissing Bilbo right then and there, that it would be most difficult for him to stop before things went too far. He found, however, that he didn't want to stop. As much as he'd rather take Bilbo, Thorin, more than anything, wanted his Halfling to desire it just as much as he did. Bilbo's words on their wedding night rang loud and clear in his mind and they caused him to, very reluctantly, pull away from Bilbo's tempting and delicious mouth. His heart was pounding and arousal had him throbbing and aching in his breeches. Thorin would wait though, until Bilbo was ready.

Much to his amusement, Bilbo's face was flushed red all the way up to the tips of his ears. He looked stunning and Thorin was starting to second guess respecting his husband's wishes. Giving Thorin a shy smile, Bilbo straightened out his waist coat and, hesitantly, slid off of Thorin's lap.

"I must say, I do like the way you greet me in the morning," Bilbo said, turning even redder as he said those words. Thorin smirked a little at that and stood up from his chair.

"What plans do you have for today?" he asked.

"Ori asked me to help him catalog a few of the more ancient scrolls in the library. They're quite fragile, he told me, and he's afraid that having some of the other dwarves in the library help him would damage them further than what they already are," Bilbo answered him. "And what about you, my King?"

"I had planned on overseeing the inspection of some of the mines. From what I was informed of early this morning, one of the tunnels is threatening to cave in," Thorin said. "However, Balin has received replies from both Thranduil and Bard about the increase in orc and warg attacks. I will be discussing their responses with the Council today. That will most likely take quite awhile."

"A Council meeting? Shouldn't I be there as your Consort?" Bilbo asked, looking startled and surprised. Thorin gave him a small smile and placed his larger hands on Bilbo's shoulders. They seemed so small underneath his grasp, but then again, hobbits were smaller than dwarves.

"There's no need to worry yourself, my hobbit," Thorin quickly reassured him. "You need a break from the meetings. Besides, you gave Ori your word before you even knew about this meeting."

"I…I suppose so. But isn't the Royal Consort expected to be at every meeting regardless of when they were notified?" Bilbo asked, clearly uncertain.

"Should any members of the Council inquire as to why you are absent, I will tell them that you had other promises to fulfill," Thorin told him. "And I've yet to discussion Foin's treatment of you during the last meeting."

"Oh, there's no need to do that, Thorin. As I said before, everyone is entitled to their own opinion," Bilbo said.

"That is true, but he should take care with how he speaks to my consort and husband. I'll not have you insulted in any manner," Thorin said, not budging on matter. He was pleased to see Bilbo nod.

"All right, then. I suppose that there's no use arguing with you. You're quite stubborn, even for a dwarf," he told Thorin with a twinkle in his eye and a smile on his face. At that, Thorin chuckled and allowed his hands to caress Bilbo's arms before they fell down back at his sides.

"You can be stubborn yourself, my little one. Don't forget that," Thorin said.

"I shall take pride in that statement, my husband," Bilbo replied, smiling up at him. "I suppose we ought to take our leave. Things to do and whatnot."

"I will walk you to the library," Thorin said.

Together, they left Bilbo's bed chamber and started for Erebor's library. After leaving Bilbo in the hands of Ori – who looked oddly put off and was rather quiet, even for him – Thorin began his trek to the Council chamber, trying to focus on the meeting ahead and failing miserably. And who could really blame him when Bilbo was so very enticing?

~…~

Fili sighed as he and his brother scoped out the surrounding area. It was only their third day out on patrol and, honestly, he would've rather been with Dwalin, training and sparing like a mad man instead of being bored out of his mind. On their first day on patrol, both he and his brother were nervous – not frightened because they weren't afraid of anything – and had no idea what to expect aside from being ambushed every five minutes by orc packs. But all they had to endure on their very first day on patrol was the other dwarves on patrol with them, some of whom they had known since birth and knew them well enough not to put up with their antics. Actually, none of them put up with their antics as they had found out when Kili thought it'd be a good idea to put a pincher bug down the back of one of the older dwarves' shirt. That had definitely not been a bright idea, not at all.

On the second day, they had found a trail of warg prints in the ground, but aside from that, nothing else happened. Fili and Kili had been keeping to themselves since the Bug Incident and the others left them well enough alone. But it was dreadfully boring and Fili knew that he'd be having a better time with Dwalin, even though his uncle's best friend was a maniacal slave driver of a training instructor. Kili had been difficult to manage and control up until the Bug Incident, but now he kept to himself and spoke only to Fili unless he was spoken to. However, they both had enough sense in them to do what they were told, especially since Uncle was still quite furious with them and hadn't spoken to either of them more than what was needed. Of course, Fili couldn't blame him; they had greatly disappointed him and they deserved any ill treatment their uncle directed towards them.

And Uncle had been right; their mother was probably turning in her grave, disappointed and outraged at how badly they had been behaving here of late. In all honesty, Fili wasn't even sure why he and Kili were so out of control. Maybe it was because they were kind of at a loss now that their mother had passed on; it seemed that illnesses of all kinds favored the Line of Durin. Uncle was King and had little time for them due to meetings and issues that needed resolved and Uncle Bilbo had duties of his own. That left him and Kili alone to do whatever they wanted and usually that resulted in trouble. To be fair though, placing that black powdery concoction in the suit of armor was Kili's idea and had Fili known how much damage such a blast could cause, he would have never agreed to it.

But being on patrol wasn't so bad; just boring, really, and being told what to do. Like climbing trees to scout the terrain since they were the youngest of the group and the most agile and nimble on their feet. Kili's eyesight was far superior to Fili's, but he wasn't about to leave his brother alone, not for a minute. He may have been a git, but he had enough sense to know that the dangers that they could face while on patrol were very much real, and Fili wasn't about to lose his brother, not after he had lost his father and mother.

"Do ya see anythin'?" Fili asked his brother as they balanced themselves on the tree branches.

"Land, sky, and trees, but that's it," Kili responded. "Oh, and Uncle Bilbo and his picnic."

"Picnic?" Fili perked up. He would've loved to go and spend some time with Uncle Bilbo. It had been so long since either of them had the chance to actually sit down and spend some time with their one and only Hobbit under the Mountain and he missed that.

"Yeah. Didn't you hear Uncle Thorin and Uncle Bilbo talking about it last night?" Kili asked him as he maneuvered himself into a better position on his branch.

"No, I didn't." Fili carefully made his way over to where his brother was looking and immediately spotted Bilbo sitting on a large blanket with Balin, Ori, Bofur, and Bombur, enjoying a nice picnic lunch. The sun was shining brightly and it was warm enough still that they could go out without fear of getting cold. Truly, it was a nice day to have a picnic. Only…

"Where's Uncle Thorin?" Fili said.

"And you say I'm hard of hearing," Kili grumbled. Fili smacked his brother on the back of his head and Kili hissed, one hand immediately flying to his throbbing head. "What'd you do that for?"

"For implying that I'm deaf. Now, why isn't Uncle Thorin with Uncle Bilbo? Didn't our hobbit ask him to join them?" Fili pressed as he watched Bilbo talk to Ori and Bofur while Balin, eyes closed, leaned back against a boulder enjoying the sunlight and while Bombur ate the rest of the food they had brought with them.

"Of course Uncle Bilbo asked Uncle Thorin to join him! Why wouldn't he?" Kili retorted. "And Thorin said that if he could make it, he would."

"Then I guess Uncle Thorin couldn't make it," Fili mumbled more to himself than to his younger brother.

"Looks that way. It's a shame, really, because Uncle Thorin looked very excited about the idea of picnicking with Uncle Bilbo," Kili added.

"I don't blame him. He doesn't get a lot of time to relax, after all," Fili said.

"Whatever meeting he's in right now must be taking longer than usual." Kili shifted on his branch again and Fili watched him for a moment, making sure that he was okay before turning back to the picnic.

"From what Balin told me, Thorin is having a difficult time convincing the Council that we need help from Dale and Mirkwood to solve the problems the orcs and wargs are causing," Fili told him. Kili looked at him, confused.

"Why?"

"Because most of the Council members don't like men or elves and would rather fix the problem themselves," Fili explained.

"But if the elves and men can help us with stopping the attacks, wouldn't it make sense to just go with it?" Kili asked him. Fili almost sighed. As much as he loved his brother, he did tire of explaining practically everything to him.

"Yes, it would, but you know how a lot of the older dwarves are. They think that Erebor can and should solve its problem on its own," Fili answered him.

"Oh. I get it now, I think," Kili said softly.

"Oi! What's takin' so long up there?" one of the older dwarves in their patrol party yelled up at them.

"Nothin'! We'll be down in a minute," Fili yelled back. He turned to his brother, who was still watching the picnic, and gently tugged on a strand of Kili's dark hair.

"C'mon, Kili. Let's get down before the others get too impatient," he said and started climbing down. Reluctantly, Kili followed him and Fili couldn't blame him. Picnicking with Uncle Bilbo would've been more exciting than being on patrol.

~…~

"You're going to Mirkwood?" Bilbo asked Thorin as they sat together on one of the terraces that the Lonely Mountain provided. He was enjoying the soft breeze that was blowing and the cool night air as the stars came out to play and shine.

Bilbo had followed Thorin out there for some privacy before dinner, as the King had told him that he needed to speak with him. Apparently, Thorin traveling to Mirkwood was what he wanted to talk about, which surprised him since the Council was against receiving aid from Dale and Mirkwood. He couldn't understand why. Wasn't the safety of Erebor and its people far more important than pride? Thorin certainly thought so and, from what Bilbo had been told by both the King and Balin, he had spent the past three days arguing with the Council over that very matter. Now, the arguing was over and action was finally being taken.

Thorin was going to Mirkwood. He would be leaving the Lonely Mountain and traveling for days to Thranduil's kingdom along with Bard from Dale to, hopefully, figure out a way to resolve the crisis of the attacks on the patrols. While Bilbo was thankful that something was going to be done at last, he wasn't sure how he felt about Thorin leaving. Deep down inside, he knew that it was necessary; he knew that Thorin would do whatever it took to ensure the protection and safety of his people and his kingdom. But he couldn't help but feel a stab of fear at the thought of Thorin leaving. If anything were to happen to his husband…Bilbo wasn't sure what he'd do. However, he had to push his fear and his feelings aside. It was part of a king's duty to protect his people and who was Bilbo to keep him from doing so?

"I must. If we are to solve this matter, then we must come together," Thorin explained. "And as Erebor has hosted both Thranduil and Bard many times, the elves thought it would only be fair to play host this time around."

"Well, that was…very nice of them," Bilbo said, trying to be supportive even though he was dreading Thorin leaving. Thorin's blue eyes met his own and the hobbit noticed a heaviness inside of them that made Bilbo want to pull him into an embrace.

"You are hesitant," the King said softly. Bilbo sighed mentally and put his book down on the bench he was sitting on.

"I am…concerned, is all," Bilbo admitted.

"What for?" Thorin asked him.

Bilbo hesitated for a minute. How could he burden Thorin with such selfish feelings? With everything that needed to be done, doing such a thing would only put more stress on the already stressed King Under the Mountain. He couldn't do that.

"Bilbo," Thorin spoke to him softly, "you can tell me anything." This time, Bilbo really did sigh.

"I'm concerned that...should you leave, your party will be attacked. I'm afraid that you might not come back and I fear what losing you would do to me," Bilbo told him, his voice soft and heavy. And, truthfully, Bilbo didn't know what he would do if he lost Thorin. They had come so far and still had so far yet to go…their love was still so new and so young…

"Oh, my dear Bilbo," Thorin said, gently grasping Bilbo's chin in his hand and forcing the hobbit to look at him. "I will not tell you that you have nothing to fear. It's very possible that my company and I could be attacked. But you need to know that I can handle a sword as well as Dwalin." That didn't convince Bilbo, but he did feel just a little bit better.

"I suppose…" he said.

"Dwalin will be accompanying me, as well. And my party will consist of his most skilled and trusted warriors. And Bard and his men will be joining our party, which will increase our numbers greatly. Should our company be attacked, we stand a great chance," Thorin added before placing a kiss to Bilbo's lips. The Halfling scooted closer to him and wrapped his arms around his king's neck, pulling him closer and deepening their kiss.

Everything he couldn't and didn't say was expressed in their kiss. His fear. His panic. The sadness he felt at the very thought of Thorin being injured. The anger he'd feel toward Thranduil and Bard and Dwalin and anyone else should they fail the Dwarf King in his time of need. And his love for Thorin and how much the dwarf meant to him was thrown in, surpassing everything and all else. Because it was out of love that Bilbo worried and fretted and panicked. Should Thorin be gravelly injured or…or killed…well, he wasn't sure what he would do.

Their kiss ended when they heard footsteps approach the terrace. Reluctantly, Bilbo pulled away from Thorin, who tucked the hobbit aside his side where he fitted quite comfortably. And then, an idea came to mind: perhaps Bilbo could go with Thorin. If he did, then he wouldn't worry as much as he was now. Although he had no experience with weapons or fighting, he was quick and quiet enough on his feet and he could pass unseen by any orc or warg if need be. He could create a diversion or think of a way out of whatever nasty situation might arise. Before he could mention it, however, Balin entered the terrace.

"Dinner is ready, my King, Master Baggins," he said, the twinkle in his eye indicating that he knew exactly what they had been doing before he interrupted. Thorin stood up and held out a hand to help Bilbo up.

"Thank you, Balin. We will meet you in the dining hall shortly," Thorin replied, nodding his thanks to his old friend. Balin gave a bow and left, leaving the two of them alone.

"I could go with you," Bilbo said, looking up into Thorin's eyes. He saw uncertainty and fear in those bright, blue orbs before determination set in.

"No. Absolutely not," Thorin said, shaking his head, his mane of long, dark hair moving with him. "Should anything happen to you… No. Besides, I need you here to look after things while I am meeting with Thranduil and Bard. And I need you to keep an eye out for my nephews."

Bilbo hated to admit it, but Thorin had made many valid points. He nodded slightly, a frown gracing his features. Thorin leaned down and kissed him again, softly, chastely and Bilbo felt himself melt despite the fact that he had been trying to remain angry at his husband. When Thorin pulled away, Bilbo huffed, annoyed at himself for not being able to stay angry at the King for too long.

"Very well. But should you get into a sticky situation, I will say, "I told you so" and won't let you forget it for a week. After all, it's very rude to make your husband worry," Bilbo told him. Thorin chuckled and gave him a smile that turned his heart into a pool of goo.

"Whatever you wish, my Halfling, so long as you are safe and sound," Thorin answered.

Humming in satisfaction, Bilbo walked beside Thorin as they exited the terrace. He had meant what he had said. If Thorin did get into a nasty situation, one that Bilbo could have possibly gotten him out of, he would tell him so every day for a week. And then he would realize that one ought to never mess with a hobbit.


	22. XXI

~…~

XXI

~…~

Perhaps it was the fact that he was on his way to Mirkwood, a kingdom he had not yet visited before, that was making Thorin's stomach churn and toil with nervousness. His entire body was on edge and a feeling of dread was slowly creeping its way into his very soul. He did not for the life of him understand why he was so on edge and why he kept looking over his shoulder as he rode on his pony towards Thranduil's might elf kingdom. Erebor was getting smaller and smaller, further and further away and out of reach.

Everything was fine, he had to keep telling himself over and over again. Bilbo was looking after everything and had Balin to help him along the way. Although the Council would probably give his dear hobbit a rather grand headache, Thorin was confident that Bilbo could handle them on his own. And with Fili and Kili out on patrol during the day and with well trained warriors who knew what they were doing, he could only hope that they would be safe. Who knew if and when an orc pack would attack one of their patrols? Although he hated the thought of that thing happening when he wasn't there, Thorin knew that in order to solve the problem he would need outside help. Bard and Thranduil could give that to him. And if working together, even with elves, would keep Bilbo, his nephews, his friends, and his people alive and well and safe, then he would do just that.

"You'll end up breakin' your neck if you keep turning your head," came Dwalin's voice from beside him. Without even realizing it, Thorin had turned to look back at the Lonely Mountain once more. He turned back to his friend and stifled a sigh.

"I don't like being away from the Mountain," Thorin confided in him. While he knew that Dwalin, as one of his closest and most trusted friends, would understand, he still hated admitting to having any insecurities or doubts.

"As do I, but this is something that must be done," Dwalin responded. Thorin understood that perhaps better than anyone else, but that didn't stop him from feeling as though something was wrong.

"I do not know what he it," he told Dwalin in a low voice, "but I feel like something is amiss." Dwalin kept quiet for a few minutes and Thorin feared that his friend would call him paranoid.

"Too late to turn back now," Dwalin finally said. Thorin had no choice but to agree.

"I hope this meeting does not take long," Thorin grumbled, shifting in his saddle to shake off his uneasy and nervous feelings. Needless to say, it didn't work.

"If something does happen, Balin will send word," Dwalin said reassuringly. Thorin nodded numbly, unconvinced.

As they continued their journey to Mirkwood, the dread that had begun to seep into his soul began to feel incredibly heavy and started spreading out towards his entire body. Thorin wanted nothing more than to get this entire ordeal over and done with. He knew that as soon as he returned to his kingdom and made sure that everything was fine the feeling would go away. Until then, however, he would have to fight to focus on solving the orc and warg attacks that have plagued not only his kingdom and his people, but Bard's and Thranduil's as well.

~…~

Thorin had left yesterday morning and Bilbo was already missing him terribly, although he hardly had time to think about anything but the affairs going on inside of the Mountain. During his rounds, one of the mines had caved in – the very one, actually, that Thorin was going to go inspect – and, thankfully, it hadn't been the worst cave in the dwarves had seen (although Bilbo still wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not). Bofur had told him what had happened and, with Balin at his side, a team was sent down to, very carefully, remove the rocks and debris and open the mine shaft again. They weren't even a quarter of the way finished when Balin suddenly realized the time and informed Bilbo that they were late for the Council meeting.

Once the two of them arrived at the meeting, the Council made quite a big and loud ruckus over their tardiness. For the most part, their complaints went in one of Bilbo's pointed ears and out the other for the issue with the cave in was still fresh and still troublesome to forget about it. Bilbo worried over the team that was working to clear the mess and hoped that Bofur, who had become a good friend indeed, would remain safe as he oversaw the project.

After it became apparent that Bilbo wasn't going to lose his temper – it would take a lot more than dwarves complaining quite rudely for the hobbit to scream and shout – they turned to the fact that the King had left without even discussing any possible solutions to the threat the orcs and wargs presented. Balin pointed out to them, in a voice much like one a teacher would use when explaining to children why it wasn't a good idea to stick a spider in someone's hair, that the Council had had more than enough time to think of a solution on their own if they truly didn't deserve outside aid. Oh, that had made any of the Council members irate and Bilbo had a hard time suppressing a smirk at how Balin just sat there, relaxed and calm in his chair, and let their words fly over his head.

It took nearly an hour for them to all calm down and Bilbo had got through three cups of tea by that point. Finally, they moved on and started discussing the recent attacks on the patrols. From what Bilbo had learned, many of the orc packs had been attacking the patrol parties during the early morning or late evening and had become an almost daily occurrence. That was news to him as he hadn't been to any of the Council meetings recently due to the fact that he had been busy helping Ori in the library. And, truthfully, Bilbo had been doing most of the work because Ori's older brothers, Dori and Nori, had started visiting him every day. They asked him constantly what was wrong and if they could do anything to help him and if someone had insulted or wronged him in some way. Bilbo had noticed that Ori seemed even more withdrawn and quiet the past few days and he had worried for the young dwarf, but as it was Ori's business, he didn't pry.

Therefore, hearing about the almost constant attacks by orc packs and wargs was a shock and caused him to immediately think of Fili and Kili, who were out on patrol at that very moment. He had seen very little of the two – in fact, he only saw them during dinner – and when he had seen them, they looked very tired and put off and far too quiet. Perhaps being on patrol was a good thing for them after all. But as the meeting continued, Bilbo couldn't help but think that it was odd, very odd actually, that none of the afternoon patrols, the ones Fili and Kili were on, had been attacked yet. Not that he wanted them to be attacked; heavens no, he would probably have a heart attack if anything happened to the young princes. However, one could not deny the fact that it was very queer.

After the meeting, Bilbo brought it up to Balin for he didn't want to have to explain to the Council member just exactly why such a thing was odd in the first place. Besides that, he didn't want the meeting to drone on and on any longer than it already had. So, naturally, he turned to Balin and told him about it. The old dwarf was quiet for a few minutes before he spoke.

"Aye, it does seem rather strange that the patrols the young princes are on haven't been attacked yet," Balin agreed.

"All that they've run into was warg tracks in the ground, correct?" Bilbo asked him. Balin nodded.

"That is true. All of the other patrols have been attacked or have at least seen wargs and orcs," Balin said.

"Why, then, haven't the afternoon patrols encountered anything more than mere warg tracks? Are orcs smart enough to know who Fili and Kili are?" Bilbo asked. Balin shrugged.

"It is possible. Fili and Kili are, after all, Erebor's princes. While their faces may be unknown to many, their names certainly are not. Erebor is the last great Dwarf Kingdom in all of Middle Earth," Balin explained to him. "Thorin, as King, is well known both in name and appearance. Maybe the young princelings are as well. By everyone, might I add."

It was entirely possible, Bilbo knew that, and it did make sense. But that still didn't explain why the orcs and wargs hadn't attacked them yet. Were they waiting for something? Were they just not aware that Fili and Kili were on the afternoon patrols? Was something else going on? There were so many questions that he just didn't have the answers to and it frustrated and worried him. Bilbo looked back at Balin.

"Do orcs and wargs attack in broad daylight?" he asked.

"Yes, they do." That didn't make Bilbo feel any better.

"If they knew who Fili and Kili were, why haven't they attacked their patrol party yet?"

"That I don't know, laddie. But," Balin said, "there are plenty of warriors with them to keep them out of too much danger."

"Are orcs even smart enough to plan a surprise attack?" Bilbo asked him.

"With wargs on their side, I don't think they would need the element of surprise, laddie," Balin told him. That didn't make Bilbo feel any better. Actually, he felt worse and knew that he would be worried sick for the safety of the two young dwarves.

"Come, Master Baggins," Balin said, changing the subject. "If I recall correctly, we have a picnic lunch to attend to today."

~…~

It came so suddenly that Kili didn't even realize what was happening until it was too late.

He was on patrol with his brother and their usual band of warriors, edging closer to the grassy plain before the gates of Erebor, away from the dark seclusion of the forest when his sharp eyes caught the blurred movement of an orc arrow. Before he could even call out, it had embedded itself into one of the warrior's arms. The older dwarf cried out in surprise and pain, but before anyone could do or say anything, they were overwhelmed by orc and warg alike.

With snarls, growls, and fierce battle cries, the orcs and wargs descended upon them like a tidal wave. Caught by surprise but with weapons ready, the dwarves responded in kind and brandished their weapons and charged into the fight. Kili stayed slightly behind and raised his bow, an arrow already lodged. He fired and it struck true, hitting and killing an orc with a single clean shot to the head. The orc tumbled down from his warg and fell onto the ground, and Kili watched with detached horror as wargs trampled over his dead body without a care in the world. But he regained his bearings when Fili called out his name. Notching another arrow in his bow, Kili aimed and fired.

All around him, swords and axes where connecting with wargs and orcs with sickening crunches, stabbing and slicing and cutting. Kili soon abandoned his bow and made use of his own sword, trying to remember everything that Dwalin had ever taught him during training. Unfortunately, it seemed that everything Dwalin had been trying to impression upon him had flown out the window. An orc astride his warg charged for him and Kili felt himself freeze. He didn't know if it was fear or not, but his arms and legs felt heavy and his sword felt like it weighed a ton.

"Kili!" He heard his brother cry his name for the second time and then he felt something click inside of him. The others, Fili included, were dealing with orcs and wargs on their own; they had no time to waste in protecting him. Besides, he had to prove to the others in the party that he could fend for himself. He had to prove it to them, to his brother, to his uncle, and, more importantly, to himself.

Working as though they had a mind of their own, Kili's arms raised themselves up automatically and brought the sword down on the warg's head with the same sickening crunch that he had heard all around him. The great beast went down and the orc stumbled for purchase before he found it and made it to his feet. With his dirty, disgusting, poor excuse for a sword in his hand, the orc roared in outrage and charged at him. Kili barely managed to dodge his blow and brought his sword up in front of him to deflect the blow. Again, the orc stumbled and Kili turned and brought his sword down, splitting the orc's shoulder, creating a deep gash, and causing it's blood to spurt. It felt to the ground, twitched, and bled out. Kili watched for a brief moment as the orc twitched one final time and the stilled. Bending down, he grabbed the hilt of his sword and with a sharp tug, pulled it out of the orc's body. As he did so, he caught sight of something in the grassy plain.

While the battle raged all around him, Kili peered through the trees and bushes as large, dark bulks began to stalk towards the area where Bilbo and Balin and many others were picnicking. Squinting his eyes, he realized with a cold horror that those bulks were wargs and they were closing in on Bilbo and the others.

"No!" he cried out just as a warg without a rider knocked him to the ground. Lifting his sword, he swung at the beast a few times before he actually landed a blow. When the beast fell onto its side, Kili brought his sword down on and buried it into its skull.

"Fili!" he shouted. All around him, the ground was littered with dead orc and warg bodies and the occasion dwarf as well. But their fight would soon be over, for which he was glad because although Bilbo had a guard with him, the number of wargs greatly outnumbered the guards. His brother turned to him after he pulled his own sword out of the stomach of an orc.

"Uncle Bilbo!" was all Kili said. Fili turned and peered off in the direction of the picnic. His eyes widened in realization and he turned back towards the others. Many of their patrolling party were injured, but most had survived the attack.

"Quickly! This way!" Fili shouted and he took off with Kili hot on his heels. The youngest heir to the Lonely Mountain hoped and prayed with all of his might that they wouldn't be too late. He would never forgive himself if he was too late.


	23. XXII

~…~

XXII

~…~

Bilbo had been reading his latest book when he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He paused for a moment to listen and feel, his eyes darting from side to side to see if anything was amiss. But he found and felt and heard nothing, nothing except a breeze that was a bit too nippy for his liking. Surely that must have been what caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up. Then, one of the guards shouted and Bilbo found himself being hauled up on his feet by Balin.

Looking around, eyes wide, he realized what had been causing his neck hairs to stand up. Somehow, without him noticing, a large pack of wargs had surrounded them. Bilbo gasped as he looked around their small group and saw the large beasts. He hadn't seen a warg since he had been attacked by that orc pack all those months ago. But that didn't mean that he had forgotten what they looked like. How could be forget their large bodies? How could he forget their large, sharp teeth? How could he forget the viciousness, anger and hunger in their eyes?

Unlike what had happened in the forest that night he had stormed out of the Lonely Mountain, the wargs that now surrounded Bilbo and his party had moved in quietly. There were no trees or bushed or anything of the sort to signal their coming. Even if there were, he doubted that he would've been paying any attention to it as he was so absorbed in his book. However, even if he had heard them, what could he do? He was unarmed and had no combat training whatsoever. Bilbo was completely and utterly useless in a battle.

"Stay with me, Master Baggins," Balin told him as the wargs pressed in closer to their party, forcing their circle to shrink as they did so.

Sounds of fighting came from the forest, where the patrol party was. A fear gripped Bilbo's heart painfully as he thought of Fili and Kili, still so young and so inexperienced, having to fight off wargs or orcs. They could be injured or worse…they could be… No, he wouldn't think of it. Not now and not ever. Fili and Kili would have each others' backs, of that he was sure. Turning back, Bilbo watched, unable to do anything, unable to so much as shout, as the wargs began their charge.

It was almost as if time was slowing down. Bilbo could only watch in a strange sort of detached horror as the wargs, their teeth bared and sharp and lethal, moved with a deathly grace at the guards. The guards, with their swords and axes in hand, met them with their own charge, faces showing determination and readiness. Ready for what? To die? To win? He did not know nor did he want to for it was crystal clear to Bilbo that they were sorely outnumbered.

All he could do was watch as the guards fought tooth and claw with the wargs. Sounds of fighting, of sword and axe meeting fur and skin and muscle and bone, and of growls and howls and cries tore through the air like a knife. Bilbo stood there and watched the carnage around them. He watched as dwarves attacked wargs and defended themselves against attack. He watched as wargs sank their teeth in arms and legs and bodies. And never before had he ever felt so helpless. While the guards had accompanied him fought and were injured or killed, all Bilbo could do was stand there and watch, unable to do anything, unable to move out of fear. His only comfort was that Balin and Ori weren't getting involved, at least, not directly.

Balin, who was doing his best to keep Bilbo out of danger, brandished a sword and swung it whenever a warg came too close, which was more often than not. Ori, on the other hand, had been completely unprepared. Just like Bilbo, he had not been expecting a warg attack, certainly not so close to Erebor's gates, and had only brought his journal with him as he had been asking Bilbo about hobbits and their way of life. A quill was not a weapon, not at that point in time, but Ori held his book in his hands, looking as though he would use it to hit a warg on the snout or something like that if one got too close to him.

Loud cries suddenly broke through the battle being fought all around him. Bilbo turned and saw, much to his relief, Fili and Kili and their patrol party racing towards them. He saw that there were a few missing and pondered, for a brief moment, if they too had been attacked. Many of them, including Fili and Kili, looked haggard and injured, but he was just so happy that the two of them were alive that he couldn't think about that.

The patrol joined the battle, taking the wargs by surprise, and increasing the numbers, making both parties almost equal. With a small sense of relief and pride – because Fili and Kili were doing well all things considered – Bilbo watched as the wargs began to fall, their dead bodies littering the once beautiful grounds of Erebor, tainting its earth with blood and death. Many of the dwarves from his guard began to fight with more robust, as though they had gained strength and confidence from the patrol party joining them in the heat of battle.

"Master Baggins?" Balin asked him, giving him a look that told Bilbo that although the elderly dwarf was very much his friend and guard, he was also a warrior and that meant that he wanted to join the fight.

Bilbo nodded and Balin, looking a bit relieved himself, handed Bilbo a small sword from his belt before he charged at the nearest warg. With the sword in hand, Bilbo watched the fighting going on all around him, relief sinking into his being at knowing that the battle would end soon now because of their increased numbers.

Perhaps he should not have felt so relieved. Perhaps he should have been keeping an eye out and paying closer attention. If he had, then he would have noticed another pack of wargs, this time with orcs riding on top of them, emerging seemingly out of nowhere from the forest, heading towards the battle. Had he been paying attention or more concerned and alert, Bilbo would have realized that the leader of the orc pack had singled him out and was heading straight towards him.

It wasn't until a sudden, painful blow to his back that Bilbo realized his mistake too late.

The entire world around him became suddenly, frighteningly, silent. His sword toppled out of his hand and fell onto the grass. A gasp was ripped from the back of his throat and seemed to loud, too loud, in the silence that had encompassed him. Looking down, Bilbo stared, disoriented, at the orc sword that was sticking out o his stomach, stained red with blood. His blood. Blinking slowly, the world around him slowing down, Bilbo looked up and found that Kili was screaming at him in horror, his brown eyes wide with fear and panic. That was the last thing Bilbo saw before his eyes closed and he crumpled to the ground.

~…~

It was after he cut down the warg he had been fighting with that Kili turned and watched as Bilbo stared at the sword that had penetrated his body. Cold dread washed over him in a wave that threatened to drown him as Kili realized what had happened. He cried out Bilbo's name and watched as the hobbit met his gaze before his eyes fluttered shut and his body fell to the ground like a doll discarded carelessly by a child. Ori shouted and fell down beside Bilbo, but had to retrieve the sword he had dropped in order to fend off a warg that had charged at them.

Without a moment's hesitation, he ran to Bilbo, ignoring the battle around him, ignoring the influx of orcs and wargs as he raced towards the hobbit. He had no time to wonder where the new orc pack came from and he had no time to think of anything else aside from getting to Bilbo even though part of his brain was screaming at him that it was far too late, that their beloved hobbit was no longer with them.

When he reached Bilbo, Kili's legs gave way and he collapsed beside him. Tears fell from his eyes, but he didn't notice. With trembling hands, he reached for Bilbo and, very carefully, pulled him to his lap. Blood covered his trousers, his hands, his sword, and the ground, blood of an innocent hobbit who had done wrong to no one and who didn't deserve to be struck down so prematurely by a filthy orc sword. Anger blazed briefly within him and Kili, not thinking, not being able to do anything but act on pure instinct, pulled the disgusting sword from Bilbo's body and flung it away. Crying, he blinked through the tears to look at Bilbo. He was so pale…so…unlike himself that it shook Kili to the core.

Uncle would be devastated. When he found out what had happened, that his consort had been murdered, he would be heartbroken. He would blame himself, of that, Kili was sure, and he would not rest until he had exacted vengeance on the one who took Bilbo's life. That would not stop Thorin from feeling as though he had been the one to stab Bilbo in the back. But then Kili saw that his chest was rising and falling with every shallow breath he took and knew that if he wasn't taken to the infirmary soon he would most definitely die.

Kili looked up and finally noticed that Ori was standing there, sword in hand and looking out, occasionally sending worried and frightened looks over at Bilbo. Before he could tell Ori to return to the Mountain and get help as fast as he could, something caught his eye. Peering past the younger dwarf, Kili saw a large fleet of dwarves running from the gates towards them and relief flooded throughout his entire body. Among the warriors coming to their aid, he also saw a few dwarves with stretchers and thanked Mahal for them. Hopefully, it wasn't too late.

It was only when the reinforcements clashed with the orcs and wargs that Kili actually took notice that orcs had joined the fight. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he had known that they were there, but with Bilbo to worry about, he had barely paid them any mind. Dwarves from the infirmary rushed over to them and had to pry Bilbo from his arms because Kili didn't want to let him go. He suddenly felt very protective of the small creature who had become to very important to him and his brother and his uncle and he didn't want the healers to jostle him too violently or anything like that.

In the end, it was Ori who had told him repeatedly that Bilbo needed to be cared for or he would die. With his words in mind, Kili gave way and allowed the healers to place Bilbo gently on the stretcher and lift him up. He was helped up off of the ground by Ori and as he stumbled behind the healers, he noticed that the battle was over. Looking around as though through a filter, Kili glanced at the bodies of dead orcs and wargs and of his fallen comrades. Everything seemed so surreal. And the noises that had been resounding throughout the area was suddenly gone. Only when his shoulders were grabbed and shaken did Kili notice that Fili was standing in front of him.

"Kili! Are you all right?" he asked, his eyes wide with worry and the beginnings of panic.

"'M fine. Bilbo…" Kili began and looked towards the stretcher, which was now further ahead of him than he would've preferred. Fili followed his gaze and gasped.

"Bilbo!"

"An orc stabbed him clean through. He lost a lot of blood," Ori said softly, looking pale and shaken.

"We must inform Uncle at once," Fili said.

"I will send a raven to him as soon as I can," Balin said as he came up to them. He had blood and dirt and grime covering his clothes, as did they all. "But right now, we must see to it that Bilbo receives the care that he needs."

None of them needed to be told twice. Kili followed behind the healers as they returned to the Lonely Mountain, his heart pounding the entire time. Although they had arrived just in time, they still had to save Bilbo's life. He could very well die at any second and that thought caused a great fear and sadness within him the likes of which he hadn't experienced since his mother had passed away.

~…~

Thorin and his company had almost reached Mirkwood by the time the raven had arrived. One of Bard's men had caught sight of it and called out. As the raven soared towards him, the feeling of dread that had somewhat subsided roared to life within Thorin. It increased as the raven came closer and closer before it landed gently on the branch of a tree in arms reach of him.

"Thorin!" it croaked. "Thorin!"

A sense of calm washed over him, like the calm before a mighty storm, almost as though the dread he had been feeling had just now been confirmed. It was not a calm that made him feel safe and well; on the contrary, it made him feel anxious and nervous. With his heart beating wildly like a drum, Thorin reached out and took the note that had been strapped to the raven's leg. Slowly, he unfolded the note and breathed in deeply, fearing the worst.

Balin's news would surely be of the deaths of his nephews. The note would surely tell him that they had been attacked by an orc pack while on patrol and that they had lost their lives fighting bravely in battle. His stomach contorted painfully at the very thought. Thorin looked down at the note and read it.

It was much worse than what he had imagined.

Massive attack. Bilbo struck down. In infirmary. Survival unclear.

Such simple words Balin had sent to him and yet they penetrated him more deeply than any sword ever could. They stabbed him down into his very core, into his very soul, and Thorin felt himself reel on his pony. No…this…this could not be. This could not be happening. Bilbo cannot be in the infirmary, his life hanging in the balance, struck down by a warg or an orc or both. His hobbit, his sweet, innocent, endearing Halfling, could not be in the infirmary struggling between life and death Oin and the other healers did whatever they could to try and save his life. Bilbo was too important to him to die.

Bilbo was supposed to live to a rip, old age and die peacefully in his bed, surrounded by loved ones with Thorin holding his hand. He was supposed to see his end drawing near and not having to be suddenly put on the brink between the land of the living and the realm of the dead. His hair should be white and grey, not honey brown, and his skin should have the wrinkles of old age, not the smooth, soft silk of youth. And he was supposed to see many years as the Royal Consort, the Consort Under the Mountain, as Thorin's consort.

A thought struck him then and Thorin was surprised that he had not yet fallen off of his pony. Had Thorin not decided to pay the life debt, Bilbo would not be in the infirmary in the first place. He would be safe and sound and happy. He would be alive. Pain shot through Thorin into his heart and down into his very soul. With a gasp, he clutched at his chest, having never before felt such a sensation. It continued for a few minutes and he felt as though he were about to die himself. His forehead and face began to bead with sweat and his hair and clothes latched onto his skin. Although he couldn't see himself, Thorin was sure that he looked pale and half dead.

"Thorin? What is it?" Dwalin asked urgently beside him. Thorin looked over at his friend and in an instant, Dwalin's entire expression changed. He looked more serious and concerned than Thorin had ever seen him. And, for the first time in a long time, there was a touch of fear in Dwalin's eyes, something that frightened Thorin, but not as much as the fact that Bilbo lay dying in the infirmary all alone.

Thorin handed Dwalin the note Balin had sent to him. After a second or two, Dwalin swore under his breath and shoved the note into one of his saddle bags. Turning, he faced the other dwarves and men, his face dead set and so serious that Thorin doubted anyone would object.

"His Majesty and I must return to the Lonely Mountain," he declared, glaring at each and every person in their party as though daring them to stop them. "We've urgent matters to attend to."

"What of the meeting?" a man of Bard's asked.

"Shall we explain to Thranduil that you had to return to Erebor and will send word once things have improved?" Bard offered.

"Aye. Say what you must if the Elf King becomes angry," Dwalin told him.

"Will do," Bard said.

Thorin didn't wait a minute longer. He turned his pony around and ushered it to run as fast as it could back the road they had traveled. Dwalin rode behind him, his presence reassuring but not enough to quell the painful ache and torment in Thorin's heart and soul. As they rode, Thorin began to feel worse and worse. He wasn't sure what was happening, but all that he cared about at that moment was returning to Bilbo as fast as he could, which wasn't fast enough for his liking. One thought plagued him like a deadly disease as he made his way home.

Bilbo's dead.

Bilbo's dead.

Bilbo's dead.

~…~

"Isn't there anything else you can do?" Balin asked Oin, his eyes wide and full of sadness. The master healer shook his head sadly and lowered his gaze.

"I've cleaned the wound, repaired what I could, but," Oin said, sighing heavily and looking just as sad as Balin, "it wasn't enough."

"But…" Kili said, his voice tight and rough and ragged, his eyes rimmed red with tears he had shed and was about to shed again. "But he can't…he can't be…"

"The wound wasn't as clean as I thought it was. It punctured a few of his organs and caused more internal bleeding than I had imagined," Oin told them. "Add that with the blood loss and…" He didn't say anymore. Truthfully, he didn't need to.

Fili stood stock still, like a statue, and stared at the pale form of the hobbit on the bed. Had he not known any better, he would've thought that Bilbo was merely sleeping. But the blood stained clothes and sheets quickly dispelled that thought. Ori gasped and covered his mouth with his gloved hands, tears falling down his face. Kili was crying as well and it wasn't until his brother wrapped his arms around him did Fili realized that he, too, was crying. All of their best efforts had been for not. No matter what Oin and the healers had tried and done, it wasn't enough to save Bilbo's life.

Bilbo Baggins, of Bag End, Royal Consort Under the Mountain, was dead.


	24. XXIII

~…~

XXIII

~…~

Thorin didn't stop, didn't think, and didn't breathe until he entered the infirmary. His heart was pounding, but he paid no heed to it. There was no sound that could break him from his determination to see Bilbo. Silence enveloped him in his own private hell as his soul screamed at him that Bilbo was dead. He wouldn't even entertain the thought even though, in the back of his mind, he knew it to be true.

Dwalin trailed behind him, just as silent and as serious as he was. Any other time, his presence would be a comfort to Thorin; however, he was beyond comforting at this point. Pushing the doors open to the infirmary, causing them to bang violently against the strong walls, he walked inside slowly, almost as though he were walking on a cloud. Kili and Fili were there, looking exhausted with cuts and bruises on their faces and their hair sticking to their faces. Balin was standing closest to the door and had an expression of incredible loss and sadness on his face. Ori looked as though he was about to break down at any given moment and Oin appeared more worn out and drained than Thorin had ever seen him. They all had red eyes and Fili, Kili, and Ori had tears still pouring down their cheeks.

And there, on the cot, was Bilbo, lying motionless and still. Too still. And he was paler than Thorin had ever seen him, almost an unnatural white.

The bet sheets had been changed and he saw no blood seeping through. Perhaps Oin had changed Bilbo's clothes as well in order to make him…to make him more…presentable… But by the Gods, he looked asleep! Bilbo looked peaceful and relaxed that, had Thorin not known any better, he would've assumed that his hobbit, his dear, sweet, innocent hobbit, was merely asleep. Thorin knew better, though.

Almost shuffling forward on his feet automatically, Thorin made his way to the cot. Kili opened his mouth to say something and reached out as though to touch him, but Balin held him back by placing a gentle but firm hand on his shoulder. That made Kili drop his hands and close his mouth, looking down and sniffing. Feeling numb and detached, Thorin stood by Bilbo's bed side, his legs barely keeping him upright, and gazed down at the Halfling.

Why hadn't he noticed just how breathtaking Bilbo was until just now? He had thought the hobbit beautiful, but he hadn't been correct on that account. Even though he had no beard and was not a dwarf, there was an unearthly quality that Bilbo possessed that took Thorin's breath away. His curls were like strands of spun gold, so silky and smooth that it was hard not to touch them. Thorin raked a hand gently through them and shivered at feeling the soft, silky strands glide over his fingers. When his fingers brushed briefly against Bilbo's cheek, the Dwarf King gasped.

In life, Bilbo had been warm and radiate like the sun, only far more. However, in death, he was as told as ice. It startled Thorin even though it shouldn't have. As a warrior, he had seen death all around him in battle and had known how cold a dead body could get. But this…this was nothing like Thorin had ever experienced before. Bilbo should never be cold and he couldn't contain the gasp that escaped him when he touched his skin.

Placing both hands on Bilbo's cheeks, Thorin stared at him, as if through sheer will he could bring Bilbo back to life. Tears flooded his vision and his face contorted in the deepest of sorrows and despairs. His heart and soul screamed in the pain of having lost their mate, their eternal lover, and it was too much. Unable to stay strong and keep a hold of himself, Thorin allowed the tears to fall onto Bilbo's cold, smooth skin. They fell onto his cheeks, his eyes, his lips…lips that Thorin hadn't been able to kiss enough, eyes that would never again look at him with so much love and awe, and cheeks that would never flush with warmth again.

His hair created a curtain around them, shielding them from the eyes of the others as Thorin wept for his lost love. Thorin's body shook with his tears and he touched his forehead with Bilbo's, his eyes shut tightly. If he had been here where he belonged, this would not have happened. Had Thorin been a good king and a good husband, Bilbo would not have lost his life. He had to fix this; he wanted more than anything to fix this, to bring Bilbo back, to see him laugh and smile and cry and be angry and everything in between. He wanted to hold him in his arms, to kiss his lips and everywhere else, to take Bilbo to bed and show him just how much he was loved by the King.

Thorin wanted to live out the remainder of his days with Bilbo. He wanted to see his nephews grow up with him and see Erebor become even grander and greater than it already was with Bilbo at his side to see it. He wanted to take Bilbo to Dale, to Mirkwood, to wherever he wanted to go. He even wanted to see Bilbo's beloved Shire. Truthfully, Thorin would do anything to see Bilbo alive, to see his eyes open, to feel warmth radiate and glow from him as though he were Thorin's private sun. Deep inside of him, reaching down to his every core, Thorin willed for Bilbo to come back to him, to revive and live the life that had been taken from him so prematurely. Somehow, even though half of him was screaming that Bilbo was gone forever and would never return, he was still clinging to the hope that he could bring his beloved hobbit back through sheer will.

By now, tears were rolling quietly down his cheeks and the room was very quiet. Only Thorin's breathing resounded throughout the room like an echo. His fingers were caressing Bilbo's cold skin gently and his head, which had been resting on the Halfling's chest without him even realizing it, rose and fell at odd intervals. Thorin blinked. Then he blinked again and his brow furrowed. Sitting up, his tears stopping, Thorin scrutinized Bilbo carefully. It was only after a few moments of careful observing did he realize that Bilbo's chest was rising and falling.

"Oin!" he shouted, his voice rough and hoarse and thick with emotions. Oin came to see what was the matter and gasped at what he saw.

"Call the healers back! We need to ensure that Master Baggins does not go under again," Oin ordered and Fili, Kili, and Ori scuttled from the main room to the many side rooms the infirmary had, collecting the healers.

"I'll clean the wound again and put some salves on it," Oin told Thorin as he pulled back the bed sheets. "I already stitched it and cleaned it when he first arrived, but I'd rather clean it again to make sure infection doesn't set in."

"Thank you," Thorin said, sounding and feeling very small.

"Don' thank me yet. We're not out of the woods, Sire," Oin responded as the healers surrounded them.

The doors to the infirmary opened again and in strode Gandalf, looking serious. Upon seeing Bilbo, his face relaxed and a small smile of relief spread across his face. He said, "It appears that I've arrived just in time. Well done, Thorin. Well done indeed."

"But he was dead!" Kili exclaimed still in shock and awe as he looked from Gandalf to the healers that surrounded Bilbo and back again.

"Yeah. We saw it with our own eyes," Ori said in a small voice as he shuffled closer to Dwalin.

"I do not understand," Thorin said in a voice barely above a whisper. "How could he…"

"Life debts, Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, are mysterious things indeed," Gandalf replied, a twinkle in his eye. Anger flared up inside of Thorin, but he was too happy about the fact that Bilbo was alive too give him anything more than a half-hearted glare.

"If I didn't know any better, Gandalf, I would have cause to believe that you had planned this," Thorin grumbled. Gandalf had the nerve to look shocked and even mildly offended.

"Nonsense! I would never do anything to endanger the life of a friend," Gandalf said.

"You would if you were sure that they would survive," Thorin retorted. Gandalf opened his mouth, then closed it, and then adopted a slightly sheepish look on his face.

"Perhaps… However, I believe that this entire ordeal has taught you something, Thorin," Gandalf said confidently. This time, Thorin did glare at the wizard. How dare he all but admit to allowing Bilbo to die?! Who was he to pass such a harsh sentence on such a gentle soul as Bilbo?

"And what, pray tell, would that be?" Thorin growled loudly.

"Through the life bond formed by both of your families so long ago, neither you nor Bilbo can truly pass on from this realm unless both of you are cut down," Gandalf answered him, his voice gentle and reassuring. "In other words, should you fall in battle, as long as Bilbo is alive and well, you are not truly dead."

"Then what would I be?" Thorin asked, his blue eyes narrowed.

"The Sleeping Death, of course," Gandalf said simply and left it at that. He passed by Thorin and watched as Oin and the other healers continued checking up on Bilbo. When he was satisfied by whatever he found, he nodded to himself and turned back to Thorin.

"Bilbo will make a full recovery, my friend. You needn't worry yourself anymore," Gandalf said, a genuine smile of happiness on his face. Despite his anger and resentment at the wizard, Thorin left a great weight lift from his shoulders and sighed in relief. Although wizards could be quite troublesome, they were very wise and knowledgeable and hearing that Bilbo would be fine from a wizard was practically a guarantee.

"Thank you," Thorin said.

"Why thank me? I didn't do anything, my dear fellow. It was you who did all of the hard work. And your life bond, naturally," Gandalf replied.

Thorin's patience was wearing thin. He had ridden on his pony for Mahal knew how long not knowing for sure if Bilbo was dead or not even though his instincts told him that he was. And then, as he cried and grieved for his lost love, Bilbo came back to them, returning to the land of the living, the land of sunshine and warmth and love and happiness. Naturally, he left more than a little drained and exhausted and, truthfully, he was still frightened that Bilbo could slip under once again. However, he had no intentions of leaving the infirmary, regardless of how tired or irritable he became. If he planned on staying until Bilbo could leave, then he would have to exude enormous amounts of patience. Might as well start now. So, in response to Gandalf's words, he merely nodded.

"Anyway, there is another reason as to why I am here," Gandalf told him, turning serious and lowering his voice. Thorin's expression shifted and the warrior within him took control, sensing the danger that Gandalf's words implied.

"And what is it?" he asked.

"We shall not talk here," Gandalf said.

"I will not leave Bilbo's side, not even for something as grave as whatever you need to tell me," Thorin insisted stubbornly. Gandalf sighed and nodded.

"Very well. It is Bolg," the wizard said, "Azog's son." Thorin stilled at that and met Gandalf's gaze steadily.

"What of him?" he growled lowly, anger starting to course through his veins once more at the very mention of such filth.

"He and his army are planning to march on Erebor within the week. Bolg plans to exact revenge on his father by taking your head. And if not your head, then Fili's or Kili's or Bilbo's," Gandalf told him, his voice low and stead as he spoke so as not to alert the others, who were too busy on watching the healers work their trade to pay any attention to them.

"Battle?" Thorin asked, feeling distant and numb. Battle… There would be a war and if Bolg's army was anything like that of his father's, it would be great and it would be deadly. The cost of war…the lives it would take with it….

"I'm afraid so, Thorin. However, I have alerted both Thranduil of Mirkwood and Bard of Dale before I arrived here. They are aware of the situation and are preparing for the battle that will take place," Gandalf explained. Thorin turned his gaze to Bilbo and his eyes softened.

"I do not wish to leave him," he said softly.

"You will have to if this war is to be won," Gandalf told him not unkindly. "If it will make you feel better, I planned to stay and keep guard over him until the battle has ended."

Thorin barely recalled himself nodding in agreement. He needed to sit down and clear his thoughts. With a heavy heart and tired feet, Thorin made his way to Bilbo's bedside and sat down in the chair there. Gazing softly and lovingly at his husband, who looked like himself again, he reached out and took hold of his hand. Merely holding his hand gave him great comfort and he knew that, with Bilbo at his side, he would be able to do the right thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So, I kind of, sort of, not really trolled you guys, didn't I? Hehe, I planned it, not going to lie. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Let me know what you think!


	25. XXIV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I'm glad you all liked the last chapter – and very happy the pitch forks and torches have been put away. XD To be honest, my original direction for this story was to kill off both Bilbo and Thorin and reincarnate them as Martin and Richard, but I threw out that idea. It didn't seem to fit this story. Anyway, I hope you all like this chapter! R&R. Enjoy!

~…~

XXIV

~…~

"If Bolg plans to wage war, then why send out packs to attack our patrols?" Balin asked Gandalf.

The wizard had just told him, Dwalin, Fili, Kili, Ori, and Oin about his short discussion on the matter he had had with Thorin. Of course, the first thing that came to mind when the elderly dwarf had been told that Erebor was going to war was shock and confusion. Perhaps he shouldn't have been; after all, his father, Azog, had been defeated and beheaded by Thorin's father, Thrain, in a battle that had cost them many lives. However, Balin had believed that Bolg wouldn't be so foolish as to attempt to attack Erebor. But that had been then; his numbers, more than likely, have grown over the year and that could spell out trouble for all of them.

"Bolg is like his father, Azog. He is ruthless and merciless and cunning. He would know that the easiest way to get to Thorin would be to go through those he loved the most. Obviously, his plans at that failed," Gandalf explained. "Fili and Kili prevailed and had it not been for them and the reinforcements, Bilbo, yourself, and many of the others would be dead."

Everyone fell silent at Gandalf's words. They were thinking, Balin was sure, and he couldn't help but wonder: if that was the case, then why hadn't orc packs attacked the young princes or Bilbo before? Fili and Kili had been out on a few patrols before the attack and Bilbo loved to picnic when the weather was right for it. If Bolg's intentions had been to kill all three of them, then why had he waited so long? Why hadn't he attacked when he first had the chance?

"Gandalf? If Bolg truly wanted to harm Thorin through his loved ones, then why did he wait to attack? It makes no sense as to why he would wait to attack," Balin said, looking up at the wizard.

"There are a few reasons for that, my friend. One of them is that Bolg had sent out his orcs and wargs to see how heavily guarded both princes and the Royal Consort would be while on patrol of picnicking," Gandalf answered. At his words, Balin's eyes widened. He didn't have to look over at his brother or the others to see that they, too, were surprised.

"But we never saw them!" Balin exclaimed.

"No one reported seeing orc wargs scouting our patrols. We only ever heard or saw attacks," Fili said, his blue eyes dark and troubled.

"When hidden in the forest and under the cover of trees and shadows, orcs and wargs can be hard to spot and see," Gandalf told them. "Bolg knows that as well as anyone who bothers studying the enemy. With that knowledge at his advantage, he spied on the patrols to see when Fili and Kili would be patrolling and how many dwarves would be with them."

"How would he even know that the young princes would be out patrollin'?" Dwalin asked him.

"Does not every dwarf under your command go out on patrol in order to train and gain experience?" Gandalf asked him in kind.

"Aye," Dwalin answered automatically, for it was true.

Every warrior that the Lonely Mountain had produced always went out on patrol to give them a taste of the dangers that surrounded their mighty kingdom. Although most dwarves knew how to fight and wield weapons and were, as a whole, considered fighters, they branched out as tinkers, merchants, miners, and warriors, among other things. Those to excelled in one area, one that wasn't one solely dedicated to fighting and training and being a warrior, were not classified as warriors.

"And did not Thorin go out on patrol as a young warrior himself?" Gandalf pressed.

Dwalin shifted slightly, reluctantly, before he answered with an, "Aye."

"And did not his father, Thrain? And his grandfather, Thror?"

"Aye," Dwalin grumbled, clearly unhappy by the wizard and his persistent questions. Balin had to admit that he was impressed by how far Gandalf would go just to make his point.

"Then shouldn't it be reasonable that Bolg would come to the conclusion that Fili and Kili, as Thorin's heirs to the throne, would eventually start joining the patrol parties as well?" Gandalf finished. Dwalin didn't say anything; all he did in response was nod stiffly and look away, clearly unhappy and irritable.

"Wait a second… How did Bolg know that Bilbo is Uncle's Royal Consort anyway?" Kili asked, his brows knitted together in confusion. At his question, Gandalf's eyes sparkled with amusement.

"It's not often that a Dwarf King takes a hobbit as his Royal Consort. News of their marriage spread across Middle Earth quite rapidly. Why, people were already speaking about it while Bilbo and I were on the road towards Erebor so many months ago," Gandalf replied. Kili looked confused for a moment before understanding spread across his face. He nodded and looked pleased.

"What are the other reasons?" Ori asked.

"Hm?" Gandalf said.

"What are the other reasons as to why Bolg waited to attack?" Ori asked him again.

"Ah! Yes. Thank you, Ori, for reminding me," Gandalf chuckled. "Another reasons as to why Bolg waited was because he knew that his orc pack attacks would eventually draw Thorin away. Whether it was to Dale or Mirkwood, Thorin would have eventually sought council with his allies in order to solve the problem that threatened all of their kingdoms."

"Orcs aren't usually so intelligent or cunning," Balin said. "It seems very doubtful that Bolg would know that Thorin would leave his Mountain."

"That it very true, and I will admit that Bolg was taking a great gamble with that one. However, Thorin has traveled to Dale and Mirkwood to discuss many things, from simple trading to matters of war, which we are faced with right now," Gandalf explained to them, his eyes serious and his face dark and heavy with troubled thoughts and apprehensive feeling. "Truthfully, I do not know how he managed to find out that Thorin had left the Lonely Mountain for Mirkwood. Perhaps, he had some help…"

Gandalf trailed off and Balin watched as the wizard thought heavy and deep about whatever grave matter was clearly plaguing him. Whether Bolg and his orcs had help didn't matter right then and there anyway. They had other pressing and urgent matters to attend to, such as the battle that was heading straight towards them without pause or care. Even with the men of Dale and the elves of Mirkwood on their side, Bolg and his army could gather its own allies, such as trolls and goblins. Dark creatures, Balin had come to understand throughout his years, often ought out other dark creatures.

"It doesn't matter, I suppose," Gandalf said finally. "What matters most now is that we ready ourselves for battle. Balin, have to sent word to Bard and Thranduil that the battle will commence here and that they must make haste?"

"Yes, Gandalf. I've sent out fastest ravens as you requested last night," Balin answered him. "They sent back word immediately. Bard was still in Dale, but he is currently riding hard and fast home to gather his forces. Thranduil is to leave either this evening or on the morrow and should arrive soon, from what I was told."

"Good. It's nice to know that some are more open to an old wizard's guidance and advice than others," Gandalf grumbled, more to himself it seemed than to any of them. Balin knew that he was speaking of Thorin and he found that he agreed with the wizard.

"Now then, as you all have been caught up, we should prepare for battle," Gandalf instructed them.

"I'll gather the warriors, then. Tell them what we are up against," Dwalin said and turned and started making his way towards the armory. Ori watched him go, hesitated, and then with a small "Wait!" he followed after Balin's brother.

"We should go with Dwalin, Kili," Fili said. Kili grinned at his brother.

"Oh, I think we should take another route to the armory," he replied, gesturing to the warrior and the scribe. "I think they're gonna need some alone time."

Fili, who looked surprised and skeptical by his younger brother's words, arched an eyebrow and said, "Any other time, you would follow them just to eavesdrop. Why the sudden change of heart, my dear brother?"

"Dwalin's angry and I'd rather not risk it," Kili answered. Although he was smirking, he looked a tad bit more pale than he had a second ago. But that was usually the effect Dwalin had on the two of them, which Balin thought was a good thing.

The two of them scurried off down the opposite hallway, arms wrapped around each other's shoulders and chattering away excitedly. Ah, Balin remembered when he had been that young and restless and anxious to prove himself. He knew that when the battle came, Fili and Kili would prove themselves true warriors who were both worthy of Thorin's throne and kingdom. Of course, they had already started proving themselves, what with the battle they had a mere two days before. Many of the dwarves who had survived the encounter and had received injuries were healed or on the mend. Poor Mister Baggins had yet to wake up, although Oin said that he was recovering just fine and that their hobbit would wake up on his own.

Thorin, naturally, hadn't left his consort's side, not even to eat or sleep. He took his meals by Bilbo's bedside and slept there as well. His hand always held one of Bilbo's, as though he were afraid that the hobbit would slip back into the realm of the dead at any given moment. Balin was not fool; he saw how worried Thorin was and he knew that his king was still concerned that he would lose his beloved after all. Even with Gandalf's words and Oin's reassurances, Thorin would still worry and fret until Bilbo opened his eyes. It both pained Balin and made him happy, the fact that Thorin had finally found someone to love so deeply and that he worried so much for his beloved's well-being.

"I believe it would be best to go and check on our king and our hobbit," Gandalf suggested.

"Indeed. Perhaps Mister Baggins has opened his eyes," Balin agreed and they began their trek to the infirmary.

"He will come to when he is ready. Until then, all anyone can do is be there for him and Thorin both."

~…~

"Wait!" Dwalin looked over his shoulder and saw Ori running towards him. His stomach twisted into a painful knot and guilt gripped him through his longing and his love.

The last time they had spoke had not been a pleasant experience for either of them and Dwalin had regretted speaking so harshly to the younger dwarf. He had been beyond angry and frustrated then and he had taken it out on Ori unrightfully so. Since then, he hadn't seen the scribe often or enough to talk to him and apologize. Even if he had, Dwalin wasn't great with words in general, so apologizing or trying to was very difficult for him. More so than it was for Thorin, although when he felt genuinely regretful, his friend and king would apologize readily. Regardless, Dwalin hadn't seen or spoken to Ori much before he left with Thorin and after he had returned.

But, apparently, he was going to now.

Ori stopped in front of him and was red in the face. His bottom lip quivered and he looked like he was on the verge of tears. Dwalin's guilt intensified. He was the one who made Ori feel this way and it wasn't right. Part of him wanted to desperately reach out and crush the scribe to his chest, but another part of him held him back. As a warrior, Dwalin wasn't used to sharing his feelings or expressing them. At least, not feelings like love or longing or sadness or fear. But something about Ori made him want to step out of his comfort zone and say and do things that he had never said or done before. It was different, it was new, and he wasn't sure if he liked it or not.

"Mister Dwalin… I…I…" Ori began, stuttering and looking more frightened and unsure than Dwalin had ever seen him. And for a moment, Dwalin feared that he had made Ori feel afraid of him. That was definitely not something he wanted, ever.

"Spit it out, lad," Dwalin said in what he hoped was a soft, comforting voice. Judging by Ori's wince, he hadn't succeeded all too well. He watched as Ori swallowed and looked down at the floor.

"I…I just wanted to say that…that I'm sorry. For bothering you the l-last time," Ori said meekly. At his words, something broke inside of Dwalin. If anyone should be apologizing, it ought to be him and not the young dwarf before him who had, truly, done nothing wrong. The fault lay with Dwalin and Dwalin alone. No one else.

Reaching a hand out, he watched Ori wince and close his eyes, clearly expecting a blow. Such a thought had never, ever even occurred to Dwalin before. He would never hit Ori nor would he harm him ever again. Seeing so much pain and sadness on his face was too much for Dwalin to bear. Ori was a sweet and gentle dwarf who loved books and writing and drawing; and that was how he ought to stay. So, with an expression on his face that, hopefully, relayed how much he regretted speaking so harshly to Ori and how much he cared, Dwalin placed his hand gently on Ori's shoulder. His dark eyes watched as he saw Ori open his eyes, blink in confusion, and then look up at him.

"M-Mister Dwalin?" he asked softly.

"If anyone ought to apologize, it should be me. I…took my frustrations out on you tha' day and…I deeply regret that," Dwalin told him, his gaze never leaving Ori's. He watched as Ori's face changed from fear and sadness to happiness and hope, making his eyes shine brightly.

"So…you're…you're not mad at me?" Ori said. Dwalin stepped closer to him, his hand moving from Ori's shoulder to his neck, stroking the skin softly.

"No, lad. I'm not mad," Dwalin replied.

When Ori's smile widened, Dwalin found that he couldn't resist. Bending down, he pressed his lips to Ori's in a soft, unsure, hesitant kiss. His heart soared when he felt Ori kiss him back and a feeling settled deep down inside of him that everything would be all right.


	26. XXV

~…~

XXV

~…~

When Bilbo came to, it was quiet and mostly dark. He figured that it was night time, given that there was little noise and no one walking about the infirmary as there usually was during the waking hours. There was a dull throbbing ache in his abdomen that was more like a pressure that wouldn't go away than an actual feeling of pain. From the orc sword that had pierced his body as though it were made out of nothing. Bilbo was surprised that he was even here, alive apparently and in one piece, instead of dead and buried. But he was thankful for it, so very thankful.

He remembered before he passed out – he refused to believe that he had fainted yet again! – that Kili's frightened face had been the last thing he saw. Oh, the poor, young dwarf was probably worried sick or something equally ridiculous. Surely, the medics had arrived on time and had been able to stop the bleeding and mend the wound before any major damage occurred. Perhaps he would visit Kili or have the dwarf visit him, should Oin allow him out of bed that is.

Bilbo wondered if the others came out of the battle unscathed. If anything had happened to Balin or Fili or Kili or, heaven forbid, Ori, Bilbo would track down every orc in sight and run a sword through their bodies without even blinking. Oh dear, he was beginning to think like a dwarf. That would not do, that would not do at all! He was hobbit, a Baggins of Bag End, and he was completely respectable. And respectable hobbits didn't kill orcs or even contemplate killing orcs. He supposed that he ought to talk to Thorin about possibly visiting the Shire, if only for a week or two and maybe with the king by his side. Kings, after all, needed vacations as well, did they not? What with all of the hard work and constant pressure it took in running a kingdom and keeping its people alive and well, surely one small vacation would be a more than welcome reprise. But he would have to wait until Thorin returned from his meeting in Mirkwood to discuss the matter.

Through the dark, he peered around and saw the familiar beds and side tables that stood by them. All of the other beds were empty; it seemed as though Bilbo was the only patient in the infirmary. There were a few candle flames burning on their very small candle stubs and most were actually burned down to the base. They gave off a small amount of light, but just enough that Bilbo was able to see better than he would have in complete darkness.

A soft grunt from his bedside made him jump and he turned to look at who it was. It was Thorin, sleeping soundly and deeply against his bed, his head on the white sheets and his larger hand clutching Bilbo's smaller one. How could he not feel his husband's hand on his own or sense his body heat? Perhaps he had been too distracted and worried about everything else that he didn't take in his surroundings. Bilbo had, after all, just woken up after who knows how long and still felt a bit tired and worn out and not all there. Focusing on anything too hard gave him a headache and his head was pounding enough as it is. However, he couldn't help but focus all too intently on his husband.

Thorin looked far more worn out and tired than the last time Bilbo had seen him. He looked as though he had been fighting sleep for some time and was only sleeping now because his body was far too exhausted to stay awake. His clothes looked wrinkled and his royal jewels were missing. Clearly, he hadn't been sleeping and probably not eating since he returned to the Lonely Mountain and that made Bilbo worry. It also made him angry. How dare that stubborn dwarf of his not take care of himself when he had a kingdom to run?! Honestly, just because Bilbo received a mere cut in the midst of battle didn't mean that Thorin could just let himself go like that and not pay attention to his people or his kingdom.

Besides, what was Thorin doing here anyway? Bilbo's wound had obviously not been that bad or else he wouldn't have woken up so soon, or at all. It was clear to him that the healers arrived in time to save him and that he had fainted due to the shock of the battle and of being stabbed. But Oin and his healers knew what they were doing, so it seemed ridiculous to him that Thorin would come back just for a superfluous wound. Meeting with Thranduil and Bard about solving the orc attacks was what mattered most and if things feel apart because Thorin was being stubborn and sentimental then Bilbo was going to throttle the King himself.

Still, it was quite thoughtful of Thorin to return just for him, just because he got hurt. It made Bilbo's heart clench with love and happiness and caused a small prick of tears to rise in his eyes. He couldn't help it; knowing that Thorin would throw caution to the wind and coming rushing back to him like a knight in shining armor for his beloved simply took Bilbo's breath away. Call him sentimental as well – for he was – or a fool for believing that fairytales from a story book could come true – knights in shining armor aside, of course – but Bilbo deeply appreciated Thorin returning to him and wanted nothing more than to kiss his husband senseless.

Moving forward a bit to do just that, Bilbo gasped softly as the aching pressure turned into a sharp sting of pain, much like the pain one received when accidentally cutting oneself with a knife while cutting vegetables for a soup. He clutched Thorin's hand as he hissed through his teeth and fell softly back onto his pillows. Oh, dear. Perhaps he was worse off than he thought…

"Bilbo…?" came Thorin's sleepy voice from out of the darkness. Bilbo turned to see the Dwarf King raise his head and yawn before his tired blue eyes met his gaze. The relief and happiness that the hobbit found in his husband's eyes took his breath away and he felt a soft blush creep across his face. No one, not even his parents, had ever gazed at him with such an expression of overwhelming love and happiness.

"Thorin," Bilbo said softly and swallowed. It wasn't until just then that he realized exactly how much he had missed Thorin. The sudden urge to kiss Thorin, to hold him, to…to make love to him washed over him like a grand, powerful wave and Bilbo found himself wanting to succumb to it.

"I am so very happy to see you awake at last," Thorin told him, one of his hands coming up to cup his cheek. Bilbo's eyes fluttered shut at the contact and he smiled before opening them.

"How long was I asleep? Surely I couldn't have been out for more than a day. Maybe two," Bilbo pondered, his eyes searching. Thorin's eyes darkened and he squeezed Bilbo's hand as he edged closer to the cot.

"Do you… You truly do not know?" Thorin asked, his voice barely a whisper and his eyes wide in shock and slight confusion.

"Know what? Thorin, honestly, the wound couldn't have been that bad. I woke up in no time, didn't I?" Bilbo asked him, puzzled and perplexed himself.

"Bilbo, you… You were stabbed with an orc sword. You," Thorin choked on his words and his eyes, usually so strong and so sure, began to sparkle and shining with tears. That worried and frightened Bilbo more than he could even begin to describe. "You died."

The words struck Bilbo to his core and his eyes widened in disbelief. No, Thorin had to be mistaken. He couldn't have been…there was no way that he had been…dead. If he had been dead, then he wouldn't still be here, right? There had been a mistake…there had to have been. But then again, for what other reason would Thorin came back before his meeting even started? And why would he look so worried? And…and were those tear stains on Thorin's face? Oh… Oh.

"I…I died?" Bilbo said, his voice sounding far away. He honestly didn't know if he should believe it or not, but part of him already did. It was as though his mind and his heart were on separate pages.

"Yes, Bilbo, you did," Thorin told him, his thumb caressing gentle circles on the back of his hand.

Confused, Bilbo stared into those intense, blue eyes and asked, "Then how…how am I still here? I…I am alive, aren't I?"

"Yes, my love, you are very much alive," Thorin reassured him. "It would seem that our…life bond forged by the life debt between our two lines is what saved your life."

"Truly? Our life bond is what saved me?" Bilbo said, sounding in awe, and he was. He had never heard of such a thing. Granted, his knowledge of life debts and life bonds in general was rather limited. And although Erebor's library was extensive, he had yet to find a book on life debts or anything of the sort. Perhaps he would have to look hard to find one when he was able to leave the infirmary, which, now that he knew he had been dead, might not be for some time.

"Indeed, it is," Thorin said and stood up to press a kiss to Bilbo's lips.

At the contact, Bilbo gasped and immediately responded enthusiastically. Never before had he felt so deprived of another's touch and he craved to have Thorin kiss him until he was blue in the face and have his hands touch him all over. Leaning up into the kiss, Bilbo moaned and moved his lips against Thorin's. Their kisses quickly turned from sweet and innocent to needy and passionate. Thorin's tongue pressed against his lips and Bilbo opened his mouth happily. A jolt of love and lust surged through him as Thorin's tongue touched his own and tasted him.

His hands wandered up Thorin's chest to his hair, twining in the thick mane and pulling on it, drawing his husband closer. Bilbo felt heat spread throughout his entire body, from his face to his nether regions. Only Thorin could make him feel that way and Bilbo liked it a lot. He liked it more than he liked books and maps, more than he liked food and tea, and more than he liked his beloved Shire. With his body reacting to Thorin's kisses and his hands, which had wandered from his face to his back, pulling Bilbo up off of the bed and pressing the hobbit against him. Those warm, large hands caressed his back, making their way down, and…

"Ah!" Bilbo hissed as Thorin's hands passed over the entry wound in his back. Although it had been healing nicely and wasn't in danger of bleeding, or so Bilbo hoped, it was still tender and sore. Probably because whatever healing salves Oin had used had worn off by that point.

"I'm sorry," Thorin said, pulling away from Bilbo and looking distraught. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"No, it's...it's fine. Just a little tender is all, nothing more," Bilbo reassured him with a smile. Thorin gave him a small smile in return and pressed a soft, chaste kiss to his lips.

"I have missed you more than you can imagine," he told him, his voice sounding so rough and yet so soft all at once. It made Bilbo's heart melt.

"I've missed you as well, my king," Bilbo responded. Thorin's blue eyes shone with mischief and love and desire.

"Once you are healed and the battle is over, I would like to take you to bed. If you're willing," he said.

"Oh, I…I'm more than willing," Bilbo answered, unable to stop grinning. Then his brain kicked in and his grin vanished. "What battle? I thought that the battle was over."

Thorin sighed heavily and sat back down in the chair beside the cot. "Gandalf is here. He arrived not long after I did after word of your…" he trailed off, swallowed, and then began again.

"He brought news with him. Bolg, son of Azog who my father defeated in battle long ago, is marching towards Erebor as we speak. His only desire to wipe out my line to avenge his father's demise."

"What?" Bilbo asked, his eyes wide and staring intently at Thorin.

"It's true. Thranduil will arrive at Erebor soon and Bard and his men are getting ready in Dale," Thorin explained. "Bolg had hoped to hurt me by killing my nephews and you, but he did not prevail."

"That's why he sent those orc packs to attack and why none of them attacked the patrols Fili and Kili on," Bilbo mused aloud. Thorin nodded.

"So it seems. Although orcs are fierce and will most likely be teamed with goblins, I believe that the battle will be ours," Thorin said, his eyes meeting Bilbo's. "We will win, Bilbo. I swear to you that we will."

"Just swear that you will return to me alive and in one piece. That's all I want, Thorin. Promise me you will or I'll give you a lecture that will make Bolg seem like a harmless kitten," Bilbo demanded, half joking but half serious. And he was serious, even through his jest. If Thorin was injured or…or killed, Bilbo would bring him back and kill him himself.

"I swear that I will return to you as you requested, my consort," Thorin promised. "And I will ensure that Fili and Kili do as well. And the others."

Bilbo gave him a tired smile and leaned back against the pillows on his cot. "You'd better. I'll not have my husband die on me before taking me to his marriage bed."

"As you ought to recall, I tried taking you there once already," Thorin joked, his eyes crinkling and a grin spreading across his face.

"Yes, but we hardly knew one another and I didn't love you at the time. Now, I do," Bilbo told him, smiling back at him. His smile vanished and his eyes turned serious. "Please be safe and come back to me. I would die without you."

"I shall not leave you alone, Bilbo. I give you my word that I will come back," Thorin vowed. At that, Bilbo smiled softly and yawned.

"Thank you," he said. "I love you, Thorin."

"And I love you as well, Bilbo," Thorin said, kissing Bilbo's lips gently once again before he returned to his chair. "Now get some rest. You need it."

"As do you, my king. A king should never look like you do right now," Bilbo said.

"And I suppose a good king ought to do as his consort demands," Thorin chuckled.

"Indeed, he should."

With that, Bilbo closed his eyes, listened to Thorin as he made himself comfortable, and held onto his hand as he let sleep claim him once more.


	27. XXVI

~…~

XXVI

~…~

"Fili?" Kili asked his brother as they made their way to their bed chambers. They were coming back from seeing Bilbo and were about to retire for the night.

He was so relieved and happy that their hobbit was awake and alive and well. When he saw that orc sword sticking out of Bilbo's body, Kili feared the worst. Even with the reinforcements and healers arriving on the battlefield, he thought as they hurried to the infirmary that it was too late. And before Uncle Thorin had arrived, it had been. Bilbo had died right before Kili's eyes and that had caused more guilt and sorrow to coil and contort inside of him. Never before had he felt more like a failure; never before had he felt so helpless.

But then Uncle arrived and he managed to, somehow, save Bilbo's life. No, how Uncle had managed to save Bilbo wasn't a mystery, not entirely. Gandalf had told them that it was the life bond Thorin and Bilbo shared that had brought the hobbit back from the dead. And Kili had been so happy and relieved to see his hobbit uncle back on the mend. Everyone else seemed to feel the same way. Balin, Ori, Fili, and even Dwalin were in higher spirits because of it.

However, things were tense and had been for a few days. Although Bilbo had opened his eyes yesterday, Thorin hadn't left his side until this morning and that made getting ready for the upcoming battle all the more difficult. Kili understood why Uncle didn't prefer leaving Bilbo alone; if he had his way, he'd never leave Bilbo alone. It was too much fun being around him and seeing his reactions whenever he or Fili or both of them would say or do something outrageous or stupid or both. And he had wanted to hug the life out of Bilbo the second he had seen that he was awake, but Balin had put a stop to that. He had told both he and his brother that Bilbo's wound was still tender. Besides, he had told them, they needed to get themselves prepared for the battle.

And that was why Kili was feeling more than apprehensive and anxious. Thranduil and his men had arrived earlier this morning and had news that Bolg and his army of orcs would be arriving tomorrow (and Uncle was not happy to have elves in his halls, but they were his allies and he needed them). At what time tomorrow, he hadn't said, but ever since then, Uncle, Balin, and Dwalin had been preparing everyone for battle. Gandalf had taken to the infirmary where he said he would be most needed. Kili couldn't see how; surely a wizard would be more useful on the battlefield than in the infirmary with Oin and his healers. But Balin had told him that wizards were mysterious and that trying to understand them was like trying to understand the moon or the sun. Naturally, that only gave Kili a headache thinking about such things and he quickly thought of something else.

Like the fact that he and his brother would be fighting tomorrow. Aside from patrolling and that fight they had participated in not too long ago, Kili had never seen battle. Just like his brother, he had never seen battle and the battle that was practically upon them promised to be a deadly one. As much as Kili wanted to prove himself to everyone, to his brother, and to his uncle, he couldn't deny that he was frightened. What happened the other day…it would pale in comparison to the battle yet to come. Many of the warriors Kili had patrolled with were dead or had been injured. Those who had been injured would be fighting tomorrow.

What would he do if Uncle were to be injured or…or killed? Uncle Thorin had been like a father to him; no, he was a father to both Kili and Fili. After their father had died – Kili was too young at the time and had no recollection of him whatsoever – Thorin had taken on the role of father figure to the young princes. And when their mother had died, Uncle had become even more involved with them, taking any personal time he had left to watch them as they trained or to spar with them himself. He had always been around, so strong and so sure, and just thinking about not having Uncle around anymore brought a strong stab of pain to his chest.

Thinking about Fili dying…that brought even more pain and heartbreak. Kili knew that if Uncle died, he would be able to get through it and persevere. It would take a long, long time, but he would. If Fili died, however, Kili knew for certain that he would never be about to get through it. Fili was his older brother and his best friend. They had been together since the day Kili was born. Where one went, the other was never too far behind. And if Fili died in the battle Kili would die with him. Perhaps not literally; perhaps Kili would be able to walk away from the battle alive, but if Fili didn't, then Kili would be dead on the inside. He would never forgive himself if Fili died.

"What is it, Kili?" Fili asked him, looking just as worn out and tired as Kili felt. They had, after all, had a busy day and tomorrow was going to be…well, it was going to be like nothing either of them had ever seen before.

Kili stopped walking and gazed at the ground, a furrow in his brow. Fili had continued walking, but upon hearing Kili's voice and noticing that his brother had stopped walking and turned around to face him. Clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides, Kili looked up and met his brother's blue eyed gaze. There was concern in them along with the same fear that plagued Kili.

"I…I am…." Kili couldn't get the words out. Why he couldn't, he didn't know, but he just couldn't admit to his brother, the stronger, better of the two of them, that he was afraid. Fili stepped closer to him and before Kili knew it, he was enveloped in a hug.

"I know, Kili," Fili told him gently. "I am too."

Relief flooded throughout Kili and he returned his brother's embrace. Knowing that he wasn't the only one who was afraid made him feel as though he wasn't alone. But although his brother's words comforted him more than anything else would right then and there, Kili was still worried about his brother and if he would survive tomorrow.

~…~

"Do not worry yourself unnecessarily, Thorin," Gandalf told him from the chair beside Bilbo's bed. Currently, Bilbo was asleep having had a long day full of happy, excited visitors and helping Thorin with Thranduil and Bard and preparing for the battle tomorrow. It had been a rough day for all of them and tomorrow was only going to be that much worse.

"How can I not?" Thorin asked him in return. "Battle will befall Erebor tomorrow. Orcs and wargs are deadly and ruthless in combat. Many will die."

Gandalf reluctantly nodded. Thorin was right. Indeed, many people, dwarves, elves, and men, would perish in the battle. Many more would be injured. However, if the orcs and wargs were to be defeated and driven back, it had to be done. No one was safe; not Dale, not Mirkwood, and not Erebor. And no one would be safe until the threat was dealt with. Truthfully, the war between the orcs and the dwarves of Erebor had been a long and painful one and it was coming to an end. All things ended, Gandalf knew that very well, and tomorrow would be the deciding factor. Tomorrow was clouded to even Gandalf's wizarding knowledge and insight, so he couldn't say which side would come out as victorious. All he knew was that he hoped that good would once again triumph over evil.

"Death, unfortunately, is a very close companion of war, Thorin, son of Thrain," Gandalf replied after a long, quiet moment. "Where one goes, the other will follow. It is a fact of life that even I cannot deny. And you are correct: orcs and wargs are quite the formidable foe. But you and many of your warriors have fought them in the past and have managed to defeat them. Such a feat can be done again."

Thorin didn't respond to his words and Gandalf gave him time to think. As he did so, he watched Bilbo's chest rise and fall. The wizard had been telling the truth when he had told Thorin and Thranduil earlier that day that he'd be of more use to all of them in the infirmary than on the battlefield. The injured would require his attention more than the warriors participating in battle. He understood Thorin's concerns and worries for he had them himself. Although none of the warriors would die in vain, he still felt sorrow for their passing. Gandalf knew many of the elves, dwarves, and men who would be fighting tomorrow and he knew that many of them would perish. While he knew that this battle would come, that did not make the sadness go away.

"I did not want this battle," Thorin said as he sat down across from Gandalf. His eyes remained focused on Bilbo as he spoke and the wizard couldn't help but notice how tired and worn out the Dwarf King looked. "All I've ever wanted was for Erebor to be prosperous and to be able to protect my people."

"No one ever wants war, my friend. But this war was one that started long before you were a warrior. And you know that," Gandalf told him not unkindly. "It didn't end when your father killed Azog. In order to protect your people, and not just your people but many others as well, you must prevail."

"Will we prevail?" Thorin asked him, his eyes finally meeting Gandalf's.

"I do not know for certain. All I can do is hope and help you here," Gandalf explained.

"Mahal help us," Thorin mumbled quietly to himself. Gandalf couldn't agree more.

~…~

Dwalin stood in the front of the line among all of the warriors and fighters that the Lonely Mountain could produce. He was standing with warriors of old and young ones who had only seen battle a handful of times. He was standing with elves who had lived many life times and men who would only live once. Many of them had swords and axes and bows and quivers. They had known that this moment was coming; they had known that a battle would be drenching Erebor's landscape with the blood of many. And Dwalin was ready to fight, to take down as many orcs and wargs as he could, and he was willing to go down fighting.

He was willing to die for his king, for his home, and for everyone he held dear. Just like Thorin, Dwalin wanted to protect his own. Balin, who was standing next to him, was just as eager as he was. All of the experienced warriors were eager to fight, to protect their home and their families and loved ones. Before them, through the distance, Bolg and his army were coming. They would soon be upon them and Dwalin could already hear the blood chilling cries of the wargs and the thundering of massive, powerful paws and the footsteps of orcs.

His heart pounded steadily in his chest and his axes, Grasper and Keeper, were clutched in his hands. Balin had his own sword in his hand. And Thorin, who stood beside him as proud and strong and ready for battle as any king ought to be, had Orcrist in his hand, a gift bestowed to him by his father before he fell ill and passed away. Dwalin waited, anticipation and adrenaline pumping through his veins, for the battle to begin. They were getting closer now, he could feel it.

It would be a long battle and there would be blood and lots of it. Orcs and wargs weren't too difficult to take down; it was the only the sheer number of them that would make this battle hard for everyone. Even with men and elves assisting them, Dwalin knew that many of both sides would fall and there was nothing that could be done to stop it. But on the Valor, they would prevail. They would come out on top and win this battle because they all had so much more to fight for than a mere vendetta.

Ori came to his mind then and Dwalin felt his heart squeeze. Thankfully, Ori was in the infirmary with a vast number of books that he thought would help him with assisting Oin and the other healers. He was tucked away in the halls of Erebor safe and sound and ready to help wherever he may be needed. Thorin understood how he felt, of that, Dwalin was sure. The same look that Dwalin had on his face even through the adrenaline and anticipation was the one Thorin wore now. But Thorin wasn't just fighting to keep Bilbo or Fili and Kili safe; he was fighting for all of his people. Everyone, everything, depended on his ability to lead his people as well as Thranduil's and Bard's people to victory.

"Here they come," Balin said beside him.

The tension in the air was so thick that Dwalin could cut through it with a table knife. Everyone was nervous or anxious or both, and then some. Some would be injured; others would die. Everyone was praying to Mahal and Aule and whoever would listen that they would make it out alive or that their friends and brothers and fathers would make it out instead.

"You sure you're up for it?" Dwalin asked his brother. "With your beard as white as it is, you look more like a tutor than a fighter."

"I'm still sharp enough for three warriors and just as fierce," Balin replied pleasantly. "You'd best not forget that."

"I know I won't," Thorin grumbled and Dwalin knew that their king was remembering the days when Balin would best him during training.

The sky was dark and cloudy, matching the mood of every warrior and what was to come. Warg calls and orc cries were getting louder and louder by the second. Thundering footsteps approached them and Dwalin stood tall and proud, Grasper and Keeper in his hands and ready for battle. Through the trees and bushes, he could start to make out the first in a long line of orcs on warg-back.

This was it.

The battle was beginning.


	28. XXVII

~…~

XXVII

~…~

Even through the thick walls of the Lonely Mountain, Bilbo could hear the sounds of fighting. He could hear the sounds of swords and axes clashing and the sounds of flesh being cut and torn into shreds. Screams and cries and shouts could be heard, sounding both far away and extremely close. If he closed his eyes, Bilbo could practically envision the battle. Through his mind's eye, he could see brave dwarves and elves and men alike fighting with everything they had, crippling, wounding, and killing orcs and wargs alike. But he could also envision the bodies of fallen dwarves, elves, and men laying on the ground only to be trampled on in the haste of battle. Such a vision brought an unpleasant feeling to him the likes of which he had never known before and Bilbo did not like it one bit.

Still too weak to be of much use, Bilbo remained in bed while wounded warriors, dwarf, elf, and man alike, were brought into the infirmary. All too soon, all of the beds were filled and the floors were practically covered with injured warriors. Hearing their moans and seeing their pain made Bilbo feel utterly useless and he wished that he could do something. His wound had been healing well and it only caused him a little bit of stress when he pushed himself too far. But his pain paled in comparison to what the warriors' pain felt like and that was why he decided to ignore Oin's warnings about him putting himself under too much stress. Although battle wounds were something he had no experience with whatsoever, he could at least make them tea or bring them food. Perhaps even clean them up and make them more comfortable.

"Bilbo, what on earth do you think you're doing?" Gandalf asked him as Bilbo got out of bed. He had to use the cot to steady himself. His legs were weak and they shook even as he stood still, but he managed to get moving somehow.

All around them, throughout the corridors of the Lonely Mountain, he could still hear the battle, almost as though he were there to witness it himself. In front of him were the inured fighters who had done their best to protect their perspective kingdoms and people. His strength may have been greatly diminished and he might tire out easily, but by Mahal, Bilbo was going to help, even if it killed him! He was a respectable hobbit, a Baggins of Bag End, and respectable hobbits did their best to offer aid whenever they could. So, wearing a pair of trousers and a white cotton shirt, Bilbo hobbled towards one of the nearest washing bins.

"I can't just sit here and watch while everyone else around me suffers," Bilbo answered Gandalf, getting a clean cloth and dipping it into a bin of clean water. "My bed can now be given to someone who actually needs it. Besides, Oin needs all of the help he can get and as I am willing, why not?"

It was true: Oin did need help. He and his healers were all busy cleaning, stitching, tending, and dressing injuries. And although they were doing their best, there weren't enough of them to see to all of the wounded that had been brought into the infirmary not long after the start of the battle. Not only that, but as Royal Consort Bilbo had a duty to see to it that everyone was treated and seen to. Thorin would expect no less of him.

"If you insist, my dear fellow," Gandalf said with a stiff nod. "But if I see you struggling too much, I will make sure that you take a break." And the look that the wizard gave him told Bilbo that he meant it.

Making his way over to a nearby man, Bilbo saw that part of his arm had been cut off and that he had already been tended to. However, his face was flushed and he fidgeted and moved restlessly while he slept. He may not have been a healer, but Bilbo knew a fever when he saw one and the man had a fever. Placing the cloth on the man's head, Bilbo made his way to one of the healers' tables. Grabbing a cup of water, he returned to the man, who seemed to have come to, and gently brought the cup to his mouth.

"Drink up," Bilbo urged. "You could use it with that fever you have." The man did as he was told and drank a few sips of water before he began coughing.

Loud cries and screams filtered in from the corridors and from the windows. Although Bilbo could not reach the windows even with a chair, he could just imagine the sight that must have been displayed outside. He didn't want to, but he could imagine mangled and torn bodies of dwarves, men, elves, orcs, and wargs alike littering the ground, their blood drenching it and making it appear as though the earth itself was bleeding. Such a thought made him shudder uncontrollably and he couldn't help but feel fear for the fact that Thorin and Fili and Kili and all of the dwarves he had grown close to were out there in the midst of all of it.

But there was nothing he could do out there. Thorin and the others needed him here; he would only be in the way if he were outside alongside them. Besides, he wasn't a warrior and he didn't know how to handle a sword or an axe or any weapon really. Instead, he forced himself away from the window and turned back to the injured warriors filling up the infirmary. Sighing softy to himself, Bilbo set about helping out wherever he could under the careful watch of Gandalf the Grey.

~…~

It had been quite a long time since Thorin had seen battle. However, that didn't mean that he was incompetent with his sword. On the contrary, orcs and wargs fell where he cut them down all around them, fouling Erebor's doorstep with their filthy, disgusting bodies. He stepped over them as though they were nothing for they were nothing, nothing but murderers and killers and beings of darkness.

Adrenaline pumped through his veins and spurred him on. Every once in a while he would felt the sharp sting of a cut from an orc's sword or the blow of a paw. His body was covered in cuts and bruises; they were on his face, his arms, his chest, everywhere. But he paid them no mind. They weren't severe enough to require attention and even if they were, he would fight to the last to protect his kingdom and his people. He fought for Dwalin and Balin; he fought for Fili and Kili; and he fought for Bilbo. Everyone he held most dear, he fought for, because they were precious to them and he would not let them down, just as he would not let his people down. His people needed to know that their king could protect them and was willing to risk his life for them.

It was in the midst of the battle that Thorin caught sight of him, Bolg, son of Azog. Azog, the Pale Orc, had been abnormally large and tall for an orc, with disgustingly pale skin and a scarred face that still made babes cry out in their sleep. Bolg was not nearly as big or tall or strong as his father had been – and his father had been tremendously strong – but Bolg was fueled by the desire for revenge and that was a powerful thing. And when their eyes locked, Thorin could see the hatred and rage that was directed solely at him.

As Bolg made his way towards Thorin, he knocked anyone who got in the way aside as though they were mere flies to a horse's back. His arms and legs were covered in cuts and had a few elf arrows jutting out from them, but they didn't stop him from preceding towards the Dwarf King. Thorin steeled himself, getting ready for the deadly fight about to take place between himself and Bolg. With Orcrist in his hands, Thorin roared out in defiance and anger. He would not be brought down by the orc and he would not let him live for attacking his people and raging war on his land.

Within seconds, Bolg was upon him, brandishing his sword with deft precision and accuracy. His sword was raised in his hand and without a second thought, Bolg brought it down upon Thorin, who blocked it with ease with Orcrist. For a brief moment, Blog stumbled and that was when Thorin took his chance. He surged forward, aiming Orcrist towards Bolg's stomach. Unfortunately, Bolg blocked his attack easily. They continued like that for minutes on end, blocking and creating shallow wounds on arms and chests. And then, Thorin noticed just barely how Bolg seemed to favor his right leg over his left, perhaps due to a past injury or something like that. Taking a risk, he aimed a kick towards the left leg and landed. Roaring in pain, Bolg gasped and grasped his leg with one hand. While he was busy, Thorin brought Orcrist down on the orc, aiming for his head.

He had no idea that another orc had aimed his sword for Thorin's head. And he didn't realize what had hit him until he brought his own sword down on Bolg's ugly head.

~…~

Fili was exhausted beyond belief. Never before had he gone through so much fighting or strenuous activity. Training was one thing; fighting was another. When in an actual battle, a warrior had to be perceptive, careful, cautious, fierce, sure, and had to be able to look out for his fellow warriors all at once as well as make sure that he blocked and dodged and didn't receive too many injuries. Keeping track of all of that during a battle that was complete and total chaos was harder than Fili had expected. Truthfully though, he had only been keeping an eye on Kili, who was fighting not too far away from him. He had no idea where Uncle went, but he knew that Balin or Dwalin or both would be nearby, so he was in good hands.

His face was littered with shallow cuts that had stopped bleeding and his right eye was bruised and swollen. But as long as Kili was alive and still fighting, Fili didn't care. Every so often out of the corner of his eye, he would make sure that his brother was still on his feet fighting and taking down orcs and wargs as he did so. The day was still dark and cloudy and the battle had been going on for quite some time. He wasn't even sure how long it had been since it started. Perhaps an hour had passed; perhaps two. Or maybe it had only been twenty minutes that felt like forever. Fili did not know nor did he care; he had other things to focus on, other important things than the time of day.

A particularly large orc on warg-back charged at him and Fili brought his sword down, causing blood to spurt out of the long gash that now ran across the warg's face. It stumbled and fell over, crushing the orc under its weight as it did so. Shaking its fur coat, the warg stood up and ran towards Fili, growling and snarling and ready to rip him apart. Luckily, Fili was quick and managed to dodge just in time to bring his sword up into the warg's side. Again, it fell over and Fili removed his sword and stabbed it into the skull, ensuring that it was dead.

He was too focused on the warg to realize that an orc had managed to catch Kili by surprise from behind. It wasn't until he turned around that he saw his brother laying on the ground with hot blood pouring from the large, nasty, jagged wound on his back.

~…~

The first thing that Kili felt was pressure on his back. It surprised him because when he had last looked over his shoulder, there had been no one there. Perhaps an elf arrow had accidently hit him instead. But that couldn't have been right. Elves were notorious for their skills as archers and wouldn't have hit him unless it was on purpose. And Kili preferred to believe that the elves of Mirkwood wouldn't fire an arrow at him on purpose.

But then the pressure on his back turned into a burn and then pain, a lot of pain. He gasped out loud, unable to stop himself. Kili couldn't turn around to see what had hit him or what had happened before his entire body felt as though it were on fire and his back was drenched, soaking wet with sweat, which was weird because the rest of him wasn't nearly as wet as his back. Then he was falling towards the ground. His head felt light and he was beginning to feel dizzy and out of sorts, disoriented actually. Everything hurt, but his back hurt most of all and Kili tried and failed to see what had happened to him to cause so much blinding pain.

His vision began to fade; everything was going in and out of focus. Kili could hardly breathe and he definitely couldn't think, not through all of the pain. And then he hit the ground and the world around him went black.

~…~

The rush of battle was something that a warrior like Dwalin enjoyed immensely. He couldn't help himself; he was and always would be a warrior who only ever truly thrived on the battlefield. Grasper and Keeper knocked down orcs and wargs as though they were nothing; they broke skin and crushed bone and cause blood to fall like rain all around him. Orc and warg bodies were piling up everywhere and the ground was soaking wet with hot, warm blood. The only downside to the battle was the fact that dwarves, elves, and men were joining the foul bodies of the orcs and their beasts on the ground as well.

His father would be proud of all of the foes he had killed with his beloved axes. Dwalin had definitely lived up to his position as the Guard Captain, what with all of the orcs and wargs he had brought down. All of his senses were heightened; he could see everything, he could hear every shout and every scream, he could smell the scent of blood and sweat and death, he could taste the adrenaline on his tongue, and he could feel the thrill of battle surge throughout his entire body, propelling him forward.

It was only when Dwalin had finished off the orc he had been fighting that he saw the orc charge for Thorin, his sword about to cleave off the King's head with one blow. Roaring in rage, Dwalin's feet moved automatically towards his king and long time friend. Part of him feared that he wouldn't make it in time, but he refused to entertain that thought. No, Thorin would not die, not here, not now.

But before Dwalin could even bring up an axe to throw at the orc, Balin had stabbed the creature through his chest, killing him instantly.

~…~

Balin removed his sword from the orc's body and watched as it fell onto the ground. He looked up and met Thorin's wide eyed gaze. Although the circumstances were grim, Balin couldn't help but smile at Thorin as though they were back in the armory training. It was just like old times when Thorin would make a young dwarf's mistake during his exercises.

"You need to be more careful, laddie," Balin told him. "We can't lose our king now, can we?"

"Thank you, Balin," Thorin told him, panting softly, his eyes darting all around them. Bolg's army was falling all around them and had grown much smaller than what it was before. Surely that was a good sign. Just then, Dwalin stopped in front of them, his chest rising and falling with every pant and heave.

"Good eye, brother," he grunted, his hands tightly clutching his battle axes.

"I told you, did I not?" Balin replied, grinning. "Still sharper than the two of you put together."

Balin's grin only widened when both Thorin and Dwalin snorted. But they stopped all conversation. There was still a battle going on around them and orcs and wargs were starting to close in on them. With sword in hand, Balin surged forward towards the closest target, confident that both his brother and his king would make it out of the battle alive and relatively unharmed.

~…~

"Ori, hand me that salve! The one in the green canister."

"Ori! I need more bandages!"

"Grab me some more clothes and clean water, Ori!"

"I need more thread! The wound's too large for the thread I have left!"

"Would you change this man's bandages? I've got another patient I need to see to and I can't be unwrapping and rewrapping bandages!"

"Would ya tell Master Baggins t' grab some clean sheets while he's grabbing the pillows?"

Despite everything that he had to do, Ori's mind was focus on one thing and one thing only: Dwalin. He had never been courted by anyone before and so he had never had to worry about any particular dwarf in battle. Aside from Dori, who was currently assisting in the infirmary, the only other people that Ori had known and cared about who fought in battle was Fili, Kili, and their king. Yes, he had known Dwalin, but back then, the older dwarf had frightened him more than anything else.

Things were different now. He was in love with Dwalin, the same dwarf he had feared, and he was happy with his choice. Dori and Nori may not have been all too happy with the fact that rough, gruff, intimidating Dwalin had captured their baby brother's eye, but they accepted the fact that he was in love, albeit reluctantly. And right then and there, Dwalin was out on the battlefield, fighting orcs and wargs, and that terrified Ori to no end.

What if Dwalin was injured? What if he lost an arm or a leg? Or worse….what if…what if Dwalin was…killed? Ori didn't think he'd be able to go on if Dwalin was killed in battle. If Dwalin was carried into the infirmary on a gurney, Ori would fret and worry and be completely and totally lost. At least, that was what he thought he would be like if that actually happened. Truthfully, he wasn't sure what he'd do or how he'd act if Dwalin were to turn up at the infirmary injured. Shaking his head, he pushed thoughts of an injured or killed Dwalin out of his mind and tried in vain to focus on helping out the injured dwarves, elves, and men currently in the infirmary.

They needed him and Ori needed to have faith that Dwalin could take care of himself.


	29. XXVIII

~…~

XXVIII

~…~

"Do you think that the battle is over, Gandalf?" Bilbo asked the wizard as he put new sheets on one of the infirmary beds.

He hadn't heard the sounds of fighting or any battle cries for quite some time, yet more injured warriors kept being brought in. The ones who had already been treated and healed as well as they could were ushered away from the infirmary to who knew where. While the Lonely Mountain had many rooms, it surely could not accommodate every wounded warrior. Perhaps camps and tents had been set up outside? If the battle had ended, perhaps that's what the remaining warriors had been working on. Or maybe that's where the ones who had already been treated were sent. Honestly, he didn't know. All that Bilbo did know was that the sounds of fighting hadn't been heard for quite some time and that night had fallen upon Erebor.

Gandalf looked up from one of the more seriously wounded warriors, a man from Dale, who had lost an arm, among other things. Oin's healers and the wizard had been tending to him for quite some time. Most of his wounds, including his arm, had been stitched up and cleaned. A few of the healers, which included Oin, had left when they had been called for by a dwarf Bilbo had never seen before a few hours or so ago. Bilbo could only assume that they were needed for the severely injured warriors who couldn't be moved. However, his mind was foggy and hazy and he found that he couldn't think straight or concentrate at all. Perhaps he had over exerted himself. After all, Gandalf had warned him…

"I do believe that it is," the wizard answered him. "There haven't been sounds of swords or axes clashing for quite some time. And as we've been receiving more injured, it would make sense that there has been time to send the wounded here."

Bilbo hummed vaguely in agreement. He was trying to remain alert and focused, he was trying to thinking of how he could help – fetch water or food or something – but just sitting upright was a chore for him. Although he felt dead on his feet – which, thankfully, he wasn't – he refused to get some rest. If there was any way he could help, all Gandalf had to do was ask it of him and he would do it. Besides, he wanted to wait until Thorin or Balin or Fili or Kili arrived. Even if they didn't come to the infirmary, Bilbo knew that someone would let him know that any one of them had returned to the vast, grand halls of Erebor. As it was, none of them had yet to return, so Bilbo believed that they were needed on the battlefield still. It made perfect sense.

Thorin was, after all, the King Under the Mountain; he would have to remain until everything was dealt with, such as disposal of the dead bodies – which would unfortunately include many fine dwarves, elves, and men – and ensuring that the wounded would be treated and other such things. Bilbo was just very glad that he didn't have to handle such things; he doubt that he'd be able to handle all of the carnage that he would undoubtedly see if he even dared to peek out of a window. But as grateful as he was that he didn't have to deal with it directly, he couldn't help but feel guilty that he was in the infirmary safe and sound while Thorin, who had been through enough already, had to make sure everything went well and that the orcs and wargs who had survived wouldn't return.

Balin, like Dwalin and Thorin, had seen war before. He had been through many battles himself and had survived them all. Not only that, but he was incredibly clever and cunning and intelligent. His wisdom and his encouragement and sound support would be greatly needed by Thorin, by Dwalin, and by everyone. Even Thranduil and Bard couldn't deny that the elderly dwarf deserved as much respect and significance as either of them. If Thorin felt overwhelmed or unable to do well, Balin would help him out and step him straight.

And Fili and Kili…well, they were the princes. And they were both incredibly young. Neither of them had seen much battle; the battle that had been fought and, hopefully, ended not too long ago had been their first major battle. Bilbo was worried that they had been injured, but surely if they had then they would've arrived at the infirmary by now. But what if they had been injured badly enough that they couldn't be moved? What if…what if one of them…or both were….? No, he refused to even entertain that thought. Fili and Kili would always have each others' backs; they were fine. Bilbo believed with all of his heart that they were fine.

"Bilbo?" Gandalf called out to him and the hobbit shook his head, trying to clear away the horrible thoughts and images away, before he looked up at the wizard. He was standing in front of him with a look of concern on his face.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Gandalf. I was…lost in my thoughts, is all," Bilbo said, trying to give his friend a reassuring smile. It obviously didn't work because Gandalf still looked worried and clearly not won over.

"You've been helping the healers as much as you can, despite my warnings not to do too much. I suppose that you're paying for it now, aren't you my friend?" Gandalf said, chuckling softly, his eyes gazing fondly down at Bilbo. "Now, however, it is time for you to rest."

"I can't. What if someone needs me? I can't just doze off if Thorin or Balin arrives and needs assistance," Bilbo told him, trying to sound stern and resolute. Judging by the look on the wizard's face, he had failed to do so miserably. "I am a Baggins of Bag End and the Royal Consort. Just because I'm a little tired doesn't mean that I can go off and sleep the night away when there are injured warriors who need my help. Besides, Thorin might need my help and I can't be asleep should he call upon me."

"I assured Thorin that I would watch over you and ensure that you wouldn't push yourself too hard. He would not have left to fight otherwise," Gandalf explained to him in a kind, gentle voice. "Given that, I doubt that he would call upon you if he thought that it would cause you more harm than not."

"But what if-"

"Enough 'what if's, my dear friend," Gandalf interrupted him. "You are practically dead on your feet. In your condition right now, you are of no use to anyone."

Although Gandalf's words were not unkind, Bilbo couldn't help but wince at them nonetheless. But it was a brief sting of pain. The wizard's words sunk into his befuddled mind after a few minutes and he couldn't help but agree with them. As usual, Gandalf was right and even if Bilbo wanted to, he could hardly put up any more of a fight than he already had. Everything that he had left him when he protested against getting any rest. Heeding Gandalf's words would be a wise choice for him, he knew and understood that, but he wanted to make sure that should anyone call upon him for anything, that he would be woken up.

"All right. I'll get some rest. But you must send word to me if anyone needs me, Gandalf," Bilbo said. "I won't budge on this matter."

Gandalf chuckled at him and gave him a warm smile. "Since you insist, I will personally come and fetch you should you be needed."

"Thank you, Gandalf," Bilbo said. He tried to stand up, but found that his legs were too stiff and weak to do so. After another attempt, he sunk back into his chair and sighed heavily.

"The chairs are quite comfortable," Gandalf mused. "And as moving seems to be too difficult, perhaps sleeping in one would do until you regained your strength."

Bilbo hadn't heard half of what he had said. He was out cold before the wizard had even finished speaking.

~…~

Fili watched as Oin and his healers cleaned away the blood that had coated Kili's back. Once most of it was scrubbed away, Oin had begun to clean the wound itself. It looked so raw and angry that it nearly made him wince. Actually, Fili was fairly certain that he did wince. How could he not when he felt so exposed and vulnerable even though it was his brother who had been injured so severely? He had never thought that such a thing would happen to his brother, his younger brother whom he loved more than anyone else, and yet it had. Because he hadn't been paying close enough attention and as a result an orc had taken Kili by surprise. And what a cowardly strike it had been, one to the back instead of attacking Kili head on.

The wound had been cleaned and now Oin was carefully, very carefully, stitching the wound back together with the patience and accuracy of a seamstress. Unable to tear his eyes away, Fili watched as Oin continued working on Kili's back. His mind was racing a mile a minute, but all of his thoughts were centered entirely around his brother. He didn't even give thought to Uncle, who had been called away not too long after Oin and the other healers had arrived and who looked older and more exhausted than Fili had ever seen him. Blue eyes watched nervously, fearfully, as Oin continued his work.

In and out, in and out the needle and thread went through Kili's skin.

Even though, like Fili, Kili was inexperienced in actual combat, he had done well in battle. While he may have sustained numerous cuts, bruises, and, of course, that awful gash across his back, he had still managed to kill numerous orcs and wargs by himself. Both with a bow and with a sword. Kili may have paid about as much attention during training as Fili, if not a bit less, but he had seemed to retain enough to be a rather competent fighter. It's just that this once, he was extremely unlucky.

In and out. In and out.

Fili remembered the first time Kili ever held a bow in his hands. He was so young, just as he was now, and he had looked confused. Dwarves, they both had always been told, had a preference for swords and axes. Bows and quivers were for elves and men, not dwarves. However, after a few practices with it, it became quite clear to Fili, to Uncle, and to everyone else that Kili had a special talent with the bow. That was why he had always kept his beard short; a long beard would surely get in the way of his archery skills. But that didn't mean that Kili wasn't good with a sword of an axe. Dwalin had made sure that they both had been trained in using every single weapon the armory had and both of them were knew how to use swords and axes efficiently.

In and out. In and out.

Kili was still breathing, but he looked pale and was far too still for Fili's liking. As Oin continued sticking up the wound, a few other healers were concentrating on making sure that Kili continued to breath. They monitored him even in his unconscious state and treated some of the more serious cuts he had received during the battle. A few of the other healers that had arrived with Oin had left to tend to others who had been grievously injured. Although the elves and men had healers of their own, they were all allies and they were all needed to help each other out. Although Fili had no quarrel with elves or men, he was glad that it was Oin who was working on Kili. He knew Oin and he trusted him with his life and, more importantly, his brother's life.

In and out. In and out.

Finally, at long last, Oin was finished with his stitching. Handing the needle and the remaining thread to one of his assistants, Oin retrieved a canister of salve from his bag. Dabbing a clean cloth into the salve, the elderly dwarf began to gently dab and rub the salve around and along the newly stitched wound. Fili watched him the entire time. As with every patient he cared for, Oin was thorough and gentle as he continued his treatment. When he was finished, he sat back on his hunches and looked up at Fili. Before he could speak, however, Uncle arrived looking worn out and out of breath. His blue eyes were looking Kili over, the worry and anxiety shining brightly within them, although he sighed in relief when he realized that Kili was not dead.

"How is he?" Fili asked, unable to stand the silence.

"He'll recover. However, he lost a lot of blood and it's possible that the wound could become infected even with it cleaned and the salve rubbed over it," Oin told them before he stood up. "But, he should survive. Had you not sent for us as soon as you had, he may not have made it."

"Oh, thank Mahal," Fili sighed and crouched down beside his brother, stroking his dirty hair.

"We'll have him moved to his bed chamber. He'll be comfortable there," Uncle said before he turned to Dwalin. Fili hadn't even realized that he had been there; all of his attention had been focused on his brother.

"I'll go with them," Fili told his uncle without bothering to look up at him. If anyone was going to take care of Kili and make sure that he was well and comfortable it was going to be him. Him and no one else.

"Do what you must, Fili," Thorin said to him. "I will return to our Mountain as soon as I am able."

Fili only nodded in response. With Dwalin's help, he picked up his brother as gently as he could and, along with a few other warriors and two healers, they began to make their way back to the Mountain.


	30. XXIX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you all so much for keeping up with this story and my random updates. I do believe that there will only be one more chapter – maybe, MAYBE two…probably two – after this one. It's been one hell of a ride. R&R. Enjoy!
> 
> A/N 2: Sorry for the short chapter. The next one will feature Thilbo smut, so be prepared.

~…~

XXIX

~…~

There was a dull pain in his back and it made Kili wince when he came to. Opening his brown eyes, he blinked a few times, still feeling tired and drained and disoriented. His vision would come and out of focus and it took him longer than necessary to realize that he was staring up at his bed's canopy. Confused, he tried to sit up but stopped when the dull pain in his back turned sharp, sharp and excruciating. Giving up on trying to sit up, Kili began to think about how exactly he got to his bed chamber in the first place.

The last thing he remembered before the blackness set in was the ground and how close he had been getting to it. Vaguely, he could recall hitting it and that it didn't feel as hard or as painful as it ought to have felt. Whatever had hit him in the back had caused enough pain that nothing else seemed to even take effect then. What happened after he hit the ground and blacked out, Kili didn't know, but somehow, he had been moved off of the battlefield and into his bed chamber. Not that he was complaining; he had seen and fought and killed enough orcs and wargs to last him a life time. And truthfully, he was surprised that he was still alive.

Even with Fili watching his back whenever he could, Kili was sure that he would've make a mistake, a bigger one that is, that would have resulted in his death. Oh well. He was still alive and although his back was stinging even more now, he knew that he'd have a nice little scar to show off whenever he pleased. It would mark him as a true warrior and he was proud to bear it, regardless of how small it was. Kili figured it was small because his mother had once told him that paper cuts hurt the most and they were small, little cuts. Therefore, he reasoned, the cut on his back was probably small, probably not even worth showing off, and that was why it hurt so much. When Fili would turn up, and he had to be around somewhere, Kili would ask him about it.

However, Fili wasn't there and that worried Kili. It worried him a lot, as a matter of fact. Was his brother okay? Was he injured? Or…or was he…Mahal forbid….dead? What of Uncle? Was Uncle alive? Injured? Killed? And what about Balin and Dwalin? Were any of them alive and relatively unharmed or were they all dead and cold and buries? The not knowing was killing him and causing him to fret and worry and panic, which clouded his already clouded mind.

Without another thought or care to his own well being, Kili forced himself to sit up. Gasping in pain and panting heavily, he forced himself to the edge of his bed. It took him far longer than it should have, what with having to work through the pain that was searing his skin and causing his back to feel as though it were on fire, but after a while, he managed to get to the edge of the bed. Getting off of it, however, proved to be pathetically easy as he all but collapsed in a heap onto the floor right beside his bed. Clutching the sheets and blankets, Kili tried to stand up and failed terribly. His legs trembled and his entire body shook and writhed in pain. Down on his knees, with his left hand bracing himself on the floor and his other one clutching tightly to the sheets, Kili panted and heaved, trying to force himself up through sheer force of will even though that pain was simply too much.

That was how Fili found him.

"Kili, what in all of Middle Earth?" his brother practically shouted as he entered the room. His older brother wasted no time crossing the distance between them and lifting Kili up, almost as though he were a child's doll.

"Fili," Kili gasped and smiled, or tried to. The wince made any effort to do so futile. "You're alive…" Happiness spread throughout his body and caused his soul to soar to the sky above. He felt lighter than he had before, but still very much in pain.

"Of course I'm alive, you fool," Fili said, gently forcing Kili back onto the bed. He obeyed, albeit reluctantly. "I can't say the same for you, though. You look dead on your feet."

"I would if I could've got to them," Kili grumbled. Even though he was pouting, he was grateful to be able to lean back against his pillows and relax, finally knowing that his brother was well and healthy.

"Yes, well, you're lucky to be alive," Fili retorted. There was a deep frown marring Fili's face and Kili found that he didn't like it at all. Brow furrowed, he watched his brother carefully, intently. There were dark circles underneath his eyes and worry lines on his face, something rarely ever seen on the blonde dwarf's face. It made Kili worry even more.

"What d'you mean I'm lucky to be alive?" Kili asked. "It was just a cut, right? Just a scratch? It barely even hurts now." The last part was a complete and total lie and they both knew it.

"Barely even hurts eh? Somehow, I doubt that," Fili mumbled. Before Kili could protest, he continued with, "Besides, it wasn't a mere scratch or cut, Kili. You…" He cut off, his voice sounding tight, almost choked up, and it made Kili even more perplexed.

"I what, Fili?" he asked softly, wondering what it was that had his brother, his strong, brave, magnificent brother, so upset and worried. It took a lot for Fili to be overly worried, and apparently Kili had missed quite a lot from when last he was awake.

"You almost died, Kili," Fili finally said, his voice ending in a choked up whisper that made Kili want to reach out and pull his brother into a tight hug. When he actually tried, the sharp pain that had dimmed somewhat flared up and made him wince and hiss.

"Oin said that you barely survive. If he had been any later arriving, you definitely wouldn't have," Fili explained, his blue eyes meeting Kili's brown ones. Without words, they both understood exactly what they were feeling and how close they had come to being separated permanently.

"You lost more blood than you could afford and Oin said that you'd be feeling lightheaded and off because of it. He also told us that the wound could still become infected even with cleaning it and using salves," Fili continued.

"'Us'?" Kili asked.

"Uncle and I. He's been worried sick ever since Oin arrived, but he's been busy making sure Thranduil and Bard and their men are comfortable in their tents," Fili answered. "Most of the spare rooms are being occupied by the injured."

"Where is Uncle now? Is he all right? What about Mister Balin? Mister Dwalin?" Kili asked. Fili gave him a tight, tired smile.

"Uncle is fine. They're all fine. Just minor cuts, scraps, and bruises. Nothing to worry about," Fili replied.

"How long have I been out?" Kili said, trying to stifle a yawn. His brother saw right through it, of course.

"A couple of hours. It's well into the night now. There's a feast being held tomorrow night in honor of our victory, although I doubt you'll be able to attend," Fili said. Kili frowned at him.

"And why wouldn't I attend it?" he asked, sounding more determined and stubborn than he actually felt.

"Because you're injured, you git! You can't even stand on your own anyway," Fili said, sounding exasperated.

"That's because I need something in me, like food! I can't get my strength back if I don't eat!" Kili responded. Fili opened his mouth, about to retort, but then stopped and closed it. Instead, he sighed heavily and Kili was astonished that his brother had given up on an argument so easily. He never did. Ever.

"How about this then: if you're feeling up to par tomorrow night, I will help you down to the feast. Sound fair enough?" Fili told him.

"Yeah, sounds fair," Kili mumbled tiredly.

"But when the healers come in, you have to do exactly what they say. No arguing and no making their tasks harder for them, you understand me?" Fili demanded. "The last thing I want is for you to tear open your wound because you feel like being an idiot."

Kili wanted to tell his brother that he wasn't an idiot and that of course he'd listen to the healers, but he didn't. He couldn't. Looking at his brother's face now, seeing so many troubling emotions on his face, in his eyes, and hearing his voice, all but pleading at him, made Kili realize just how serious his injure had been and still was. Fili rarely worried about anything, and if he did worry, it was either on Uncle's behalf or Kili's. And even then, he wouldn't go beyond asking them if they were okay and keeping an eye out for them. But he would never plead with either of them to listen to the healers and not cause a fuss, mostly because he never told Uncle what to do and when he told Kili what to do is was usually because Uncle or Dwalin had told him to do so.

This, however, was different. Kili could feel it. He felt it in the way that he couldn't describe although it had been with him all of his life. Fili and him had always had that special connection, one in which they didn't need words to understand each other all of the time. It often times just took one look for the two of them to be on the same page. Why it was like that and how it had progressed so far, he didn't know nor did he care. But it connected him to his brother in a way that no one else could duplicate and it made them extremely close, almost as though they were two halves of one whole soul. And that was why, in the end, Kili merely nodded at his brother. The tension that had held Fili's body captive the entire time visibly lifted and he seemed much more relieved and relax than he had been in the past ten minutes or so.

Seeing his brother back to normal, or as normal as he would be for the past few days, caused Kili to smile. Just a small, tiny one though, because he was too tired to do anything more than that. It made no sense to him since he had been out for a few hours, but he was tired, extremely tired, and his mind and body felt sluggish. Although his stomach growled feebly at him, sleep was on the horizon.

"Fili?" Kili asked, his voice sounding small and far away.

"Yeah?" his brother replied.

"Stay with me 'til I fall asleep?" he said, reminding him of a time when he was still small and even younger than he was now. A time when he and his brother would cuddle up in bed until they both fell asleep because their father was dead and their mother was too weak to keep her eyes open for more than a minute at most.

"Sure, Kili. Anything for you," Fili answered him before he stood up and crawled in underneath the sheets and blankets that littered the bed.

With his brother's arms wrapped around him, returning him to that long ago time when the best feeling in the world was being held by his invincible older brother, Kili closed his eyes and allowed sleep to swallow him whole once more.

~…~


	31. XXX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Here it is. The smut you've all been waiting for! I hope it meets up to your expectations. R&R. Enjoy!

~…~

XXX

~…~

By the time Thorin began making his way back to his bed chamber, he felt itchy in his own skin. Still sore and stiff from the battle, he had had to meet with Thranduil and Bard to thank them for their assistance and offer them rooms in Erebor until they were ready and able to leave. Bard, Thorin knew, wouldn't have far to travel, and he had stated such when he thanked the Dwarf King for his hospitality before declining his offer. Thranduil had reluctantly agreed to Thorin's offer; his one son who had fought in the battle, Legolas, Thorin believed was his name, had talked him into it. Balin and Gandalf had both suggested quite strongly that a nice gift of gold to both sides wouldn't be unappreciated, and it would help keep their alliances strong.

After meeting the Thranduil and Bard, Thorin then met with the Council and had to endure hearing them boast and brag and gloat loudly the entire time. He didn't participate much in their celebration. Every life lost, regardless of whether it was dwarf, man, or elf, weighed heavy on his heart, and he knew it was the same for this allies as well. Overall, their losses hadn't been too severe, but orc and warg blood wasn't the only blood soaking the grounds of Erebor. Many had suffered injuries, some more severe than others. And Kili had almost… But he hadn't, however, and for that, Thorin would be eternally grateful.

By the time the meeting was through, all of the Council members had agreed on one thing at the very least, and it wasn't the amount of gold Thranduil and Bard would be receiving. It was the feast. Thorin knew that there would be a feast after the battle; there always was, and the Council members knew that and anticipated it greatly. However, the meeting wasn't the same without Bilbo by his side. He hadn't had time per se to worry about his husband on the battle field. Afterwards, though, that had changed. Along with worrying about Kili and praying to Mahal that he would survive, Thorin also worried about Bilbo.

Was his little hobbit fairing well? Had he been cautious and careful while Thorin was in battle? Did he overexert himself? If he had, did he push himself too far? Other questions and concerns had plagued Thorin's mind for a while, but it was now, what with knowing that Kili was going to pull through, that it really began to affect him. With everything else taken care of, with Thranduil and his sons in their chambers and Bard back in Dale, and with dwarves, men, and elves alike working to remove and dispose of the corpses of orcs and wargs, and with preparations for tomorrow's feast underway, Thorin had nothing else to ponder, to think about except Bilbo.

Bilbo's well being hadn't been the only thing plaguing Thorin's mind, however. He did not forget about what they had talked about before the battle started. His heart began to race as he thought about finally being able to take his hobbit to bed. Thorin felt himself stiffen and harden at the mere thought of it. Having asked Bilbo about his life in the Shire, Thorin knew for certain that his husband had never been with anyone and knowing that he would be Bilbo's first made him swell with love and pride. Knowing that he was trusted and loved enough by Bilbo to be allowed to touch and make love to him was an immeasurable gift. How could he compare such a thing to the finest jewels in Erebor? It was simple: he couldn't.

Gandalf had informed him upon his arrival to the infirmary, where Thorin knew Bilbo would be, that his hobbit had left a short while ago and was headed to Thorin's bed chamber since it was closer than his own. That didn't bother Thorin, not at all, for he had offered Bilbo to sleep in his room should he so desire numerous times since his arrival. After thanking the wizard, who had a knowing, mischievous twinkle in his eyes, Thorin promptly left the infirmary and began his trek back to his room.

Now, he was standing in front of his bed chamber doors, anxious and excited and prepared for whatever Bilbo wanted. Thorin wasn't a heartless brute who would take what he wanted from his husband by force. He loved Bilbo more than he ever thought he would when this entire life debt thing reared its head and he would respect his wishes, whatever they may be. However, Thorin was confident that Bilbo was ready and willing; he had said as much before the battle, after all. Straightening his back and looking like the king he truly was, Thorin opened the doors and stepped into the room.

There, sitting in a chair, was Bilbo, with a book propped open on his lap. He looked up when he heard Thorin enter the room, and the king's breath hitched in his throat. Although he had come very accustomed to seeing the hobbit, he had never realized before then just how beautiful the small creature truly was. The soft candle light made his honey colored hair look like finely spun gold and his eyes seemed large and wide and gazed up at him with love and relief and hope.

Thorin had never been so happy to have accepted Bilbo has his husband.

"Thorin! Thank goodness you're all right," Bilbo said, closing the book and standing up to make his way across the room towards him. "Gandalf said that you would be, but, well…" Bilbo didn't need to elaborate; Thorin understood what he was saying about the wizard. He agreed with him wholeheartedly as well.

"Gandalf spoke the truth to you, Bilbo. I am fine," Thorin reassured him before bringing Bilbo to his chest in a tight, warm embrace. Burying his nose in Bilbo's hair, he inhaled deeply and took in his husband's scent, his body relaxing as he did so. "The battle is won and Kili will survive. All is well."

"Wonderful," Bilbo replied, sounding relieved. "Gandalf had told me what happened to him when I woke up. I'm glad he'll be making a full recovery."

"As are we all," Thorin said before he pulled back slightly from the hobbit. They gazed at one another with eyes full of love and desire. Unable to contain himself any longer, Thorin leaned forward and placed a kiss on Bilbo's lips.

He moaned at the contact. Feeling Bilbo's lips move shyly under his own made Thorin's blood race and his heart beat like a rabbit's. Bilbo's lips were so soft and sweet he felt as though he could kiss them all night if he truly wanted to. But when Bilbo deepened the kiss, pulling Thorin down the pulling on his wild mane and putting his desire and need into the kiss, the Dwarf King knew that he wanted more, needed more, than a mere kiss.

Wrapping his strong arms around Bilbo's smaller body, Thorin lifted him up and carried him to the bed, never once breaking their passionate kisses. He felt more than heard Bilbo moan as Thorin lowered him gently onto the bed. Reluctantly, he pulled away from Bilbo's delicious lips and stared down at him, his eyes soft and a gentle smile gracing his lips. With his hair slightly mused, his lips swollen, and his eyes filled with desire and need, Bilbo looked positively exquisite.

Thorin began removing his armor, having not done so previously. He was pleased to find that Bilbo was watching his every move with rapt attention and it ignited his entire body on fire. His tunic soon followed his armor and soon his boots and trousers. When all of his clothing was on the floor surrounding him, Thorin stood in all of his glory. Much to his pleasure, Bilbo's eyes raked over his body, desire mixed with anxiety reflected plainly in his expression. Of course he would be anxious and nervous; he had never bedded anyone before. That had a lot in common then, but Thorin already knew that. When Bilbo's eyes reached his manhood, standing thick and proud, his eyes widened and his licked his lips.

"Do not be afraid," Thorin told him reassuringly as he lowered himself onto the bed and captured Bilbo's lips in a gentle kiss. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against his hobbit's and finished with, "I will be gentle with you. I swear."

"Too right you will," Bilbo managed, a blush creeping across his cheeks and up his ears. He looked amazing. With a grin, Thorin tugged at Bilbo's tunic and inched it higher and higher on his body. Having been recently injured, Bilbo hadn't objected to remaining in tunics instead of dressing in his usual waistcoats. Thorin preferred him in a tunic, although his husband did look nice in his waistcoats.

"This must come off," Thorin said and he lifted the tunic over Bilbo's arms and head before he cast it aside as though it were a mere rag.

His fingers gently ran down Bilbo's chest, savoring how soft his skin was and how pale he was underneath. Playfully, he pinched and rubbed his husband's nipples until they were hard and grinned when Bilbo yelped in surprise and pleasure. Thorin's fingers trailed down in a soft caress until they reached Bilbo's trousers. Noticing the tent in them, his eyes flashed with want and desire, anticipating the pleasure that was to come.

Carefully, he pulled Bilbo's trousers down and tossed them aside along with his tunic, leaving the hobbit bare and laid out before him. Thorin's blue eyes scanned and absorbed Bilbo's beautiful body, wincing only slightly when he traveled over the recent wound left by an orc blade. That was the only blemish, but even so, Thorin still found his husband more stunning than the fairest elf. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to Bilbo's movingly slowly at first before he deepened the kiss. Pressing his body against the hobbit's smaller one, he heard Bilbo gasp as their erections rubbed together.

Moaning, Thorin's fingers tangled themselves in Bilbo's hair and he was delighted by how soft and silky they felt. Truly, his husband was a vision and the most beautiful being he had ever laid eyes on. While one hand held the back of Bilbo's head and kept his steady and in place, the other one trailed down, teasing one of his ears and causing Bilbo to arch up against him, creating the most delicious friction Thorin had ever felt. His hand trailed further down, caressing Bilbo's neck before it began stroking his chest. Further down it went, light and teasing, until it wrapped around their pricks. He began stroking them together, loving how amazing it felt and feeling as though his entire body was on fire.

Bilbo was moaning and writhing beneath him and that only made Thorin harder and caused his prick to twitch and throb painfully. Was Bilbo aware of the affect he had on the Dwarf King? Surely he must, all things considered. Breaking the kiss, Thorin pressed kisses to Bilbo's cheeks and jaw line until he reached his neck. There he began kissing and licking and sucking until he bit down on it gently. At the soft bite, Bilbo cried out and arched into him again, his small hands pulling on Thorin's hair hard. It did not matter if he did; Thorin enjoyed all of the reactions he was eliciting from his husband.

Removing his hand from their pricks, Thorin pulled away from Bilbo and gazed down at him through lidded eyes. Bilbo's chest and rising and falling rapidly with every pant. His lips were still swollen and wet and his eyes were heavy and clouded with the same lust and desire Thorin felt. Beautiful, simply beautiful.

"Wh-what…?" Bilbo managed and Thorin smiled down at him before he reached over to the stand beside the bed. Opening a draw, he pulled out a small vial of oil poured a gracious amount in his hand.

"I…have not enjoyed the pleasure of another," Thorin admitted to him, "however, I know that it would be painful without this."

Slicking up his fingers, Thorin leaned in to press a soft, chaste kiss to Bilbo's lips while one of his fingers gently prodded and poked the hobbit's entrance. Gently, ever so gently, he ceased his finger into the tight pucker until it was fully buried. Desire and need spiked through him as he felt how tight Bilbo was around his finger and Thorin knew that he would have to be careful at first. But it would be worth every second of it if it meant he could feel that hot tightness around his member.

After wiggling his finger around, he inserted a second one and began to stretch Bilbo more thoroughly, scissoring him and thrusting in and out. Bilbo pulled him in for a kiss, moaning loudly as Thorin fingered him. His fingers tugged on Thorin's dark hair and he writhed and squirmed at the pleasant intrusion. Adding a third finger, Thorin began to grow impatient as he prepared his love. More than anything at that moment, he wanted to feel Bilbo around him, to bury himself as deep as he could into his husband's willing body, and to make love to him as though the world were ending. Pulling away from the kiss, Bilbo tugged hard on Thorin's hair in order to get his attention.

"Thorin, I'm ready. Please," he said. "Please. Just…please stop teasing."

How could Thorin say no to his husband's wishes?

Removing his fingers, Thorin coated his hard member with the remaining oil, all the while staring at Bilbo while he did. He watched as his beloved's eyes traveled over every inch of his body and drank in the sight of him. It made him even harder and he could barely contain him. Once he was ready, Thorin aligned himself with Bilbo's entrance. Holding Bilbo in his arms, he eased his way in and moaned loudly at the feel of that hot, tight body around his prick. He heard Bilbo gasp in pain and once he fully buried, he paused for a moment to allow his hobbit to adjust.

"Ready?" he asked, pressing kisses to Bilbo's lips and face. Bilbo nodded, panting softly, his body slicked with sweat.

"Ready," he replied.

Kissing him once more, Thorin pulled out until only his head was still sheathed inside his love before he entered him again. He couldn't even begin to describe how incredible it felt to be inside of Bilbo, to feel how tight he was, to feel his writhe and shudder beneath him. It was incredible and indescribable and everything Thorin had dreamed of and more. After another slight pause, he began to thrust in and out, creating a slow pace at first. Eventually, he could tell that the pain Bilbo felt was subsiding because his gasps turned into moans that grew louder every time Thorin managed to hit a particular spot inside his husband.

"Ah!" Bilbo cried out, eyes closed in pleasure and his nails digging into Thorin's back as the king hit his tender spot again and again.

The pace was quickening and Thorin felt his stomach tighten and coil like a snake getting ready to strike. He brought his head down and kissed, nipped, and licked at another spot on Bilbo's neck, creating another mark that would show the world who the hobbit belonged to. Bilbo's legs were wrapped around him, forcing him closer and giving Thorin a deeper angle to reach. Every thrust made Bilbo wither and moan and shudder beneath is body and it made Thorin's blood pump hot and white through his veins. Trailing one of his hands down, Thorin stroked and teased Bilbo's hard member, adding to the friction that both of their bodies pressing together already created.

He watched as Bilbo arched up into him yet again and Thorin kissed up his neck until he claimed those delicious lips with his own. Thorin's strokes, alternating between light and teasing to hard and rough, began to coincide in time with his thrusts, each of which caused Bilbo to see white light and nothing all at once. The tightened in his stomach increased and threatened to overwhelm him at any second. Thorin knew he wasn't going to last much longer and he knew that Bilbo wouldn't either.

"T-Thorin…" Bilbo panted. Their bodies were slicked with sweat and rubbed against each other frantically as Thorin's pace increased.

"I know," Thorin growled before silencing his husband in a kiss.

One last stroke was what did it for Bilbo. With a loud cry, he came on Thorin's hand and their stomachs, his nails buried in the king's skin and his body tightening and convulsing all around Thorin. As he came, Thorin made one final thrust before he, too, let loose and filled his beloved with his hot seed. The feeling was incredible; he felt hot and cold, heavy and light, here and elsewhere all at once. He continued thrusting as he came, panting and heaving as he did so.

Eventually, he stopped and laid on top of Bilbo, who was lying limp and panting on the bed. Thorin nuzzled Bilbo's neck affectionately and pressed soft, lazy kisses to his hot, wet flesh. Bilbo was panting and still so tight around him. His smaller hands were rubbing Thorin's sweat slicked back, trailing down and around to his chest, his delicate fingers raking over his nipples. His actions caused Thorin to inhale sharply and made his cock twitch.

"Bilbo," he said, his voice rough and dry, sending shivers down Bilbo's spine. "I wish to take you again."

Bilbo smiled at him, his honey colored curls sticking to his forehead, face, and neck, and his chest heaving with shallow pants. His fingers continued alternating between running through Thorin's chest hair to his nipples and then back. He rose up off the bed and kissed Thorin for all that he was worth and Thorin returned it with just as much passion and fervor.

"I would love for you to do so," Bilbo answered him.

~…~

Ori sat at the table with his brothers, Dori and Nori, and the dwarf he loved above all others: Dwalin. They were currently in their parents' house, which had been passed down to Dori when they had died. Nori and Ori still lived there, of course, and things had been peaceful for quite some time. Until, that is, Dori found out about Ori's feelings for Dwalin and that the older dwarf was now planning to court Ori. While the elder brother had found out last and had been told by Ori himself, Nori had stumbled upon them when Dwalin had returned from the battle field.

The reunion between the two of them had been sweet, in Ori's opinion. He had been helping out in the infirmary, Dori having gone home by that point, and had looked up when the doors opened only to see Dwalin stepping inside. Not having injuries that really needed looking after – cuts, minor scraps, and bruises at the most – Dwalin looked quite out of place and uncomfortable in the infirmary around those who needed the medical attention. But when his eyes met Ori's, all of his awkwardness melted away and Ori could sense Dwalin's relief in his gaze.

Dropping what he had been doing, which was getting small towels wet to help clean wounds, Ori ran towards the warrior, a big smile on his face, and kissed him for all that he was worth. And that was when Nori had arrived to check up on his younger brother. That…had been intense at first and then interesting, as Nori finally recalled his less than noble means of making a living. Being a thief, Nori had had many run-ins with Dwalin and he had not forgotten just how hard the older dwarf could hit. At Nori's urgency, both Ori and Dwalin decided to tell Dori, seeing as how Dwalin wanted to seek his permission to court his youngest brother.

And that was why they were there, sitting in an uncomfortable silence that started when Dwalin had asked for Dori's permission to court Ori. Dori, to his credit, did not yell or shout or threaten Dwalin in anyway. Yet. Ori was waiting for it. He knew how Dori was and how he could be, especially when he was involved. It seemed that Dori had taken his mother henning to an ungodly level when Ori was concerned. Ori wasn't a fool; he knew why his brother was like that. It was because Dori knew what other dwarves thought of Ori; how they believed that Ori was queer and strange because of his fondness for books and reading and writing.

Finally, at long last, Dori opened his mouth and spoke.

"Do I have your word, Mister Dwalin, that you will do your best not to hurt my brother?" Dori asked him. "You are aware, are you not, of what others say about him? Can I trust you to protect him when he needs it?"

Dwalin didn't hesitate when he answered, something that made Ori smile with pride and love. Had he had any doubts, Dwalin wouldn't even be here. Ori knew that very well.

"I give you my word that I will protect him always," Dwalin said, his voice strong and sure and powerful. "You can be sure of that."

Dori seemed to ponder Dwalin's words and he nodded to himself.

"Very well. I will give you my permission," Dori said, which caused a big grin to break out on Ori's face. "However, should anything happen to my brother, I will hold you responsible." The look in Dori's eyes told Ori and Dwalin both that, although he worked primarily with the guilds, he could fight and wouldn't hesitate to hunt Dwalin down.

"Aye," Dwalin said and nodded.

There was still tension in the air and Ori was sure that it would take Dori a long while to get used to the fact that he and Dwalin were together now. However, he would eventually understand and come to terms with Ori's choice for a husband and partner. Without a moment's hesitation or thought, Ori reached over and grabbed Dwalin's larger hand with his own. He could see the slightly embarrassed look on the warrior's face and he knew it would take a while for Dwalin to get used to Ori's obvious shows of affection. But he would get used to them. Dwalin was a warrior, after all; if he could fell orcs and wargs, he could handle anything Ori could throw at him.

~…~

"Are you sure you're all right?" Fili asked him for the fifth time. Literally, Kili had counted and it had been five times now.

"Yes, Fili, I'm doin' fine," Kili grumbled.

And he was. Granted, his back was throbbing with pain and he had to take it slow and easy or else he might tear open his wound, but he was still doing fine over all. The feast had started an hour ago and they had left his room half an hour ago, after the healers had finished preparing his bandages for him to attend. He and Fili had had to stop a few times in order for Kili to regain his breath and bear through the pain in order for him to start walking again, but he was managing. And as soon as he had food and drink in him, Kili would forget about the pain all together.

"Perhaps you should go back to your room, brother," Fili suggested. Kili's brown eyes flashed and he glared at his brother.

"Oh, no, you don't. Not after you said last night that I could go if I listened to the healers and gave them no fuss, which I did," Kili snarled at him. "I am going to the feast, Fili, and that is that!"

"All right, all right!" Fili said, holding his hands up in surrender. "Come on. Let's get going."

"Good," Kili said and they began making their way down to the feast.

He didn't know how long it took them to arrive, but when they had, Kili leaned against his brother and sighed happily. The sight and smell of food wafted to him and he smiled. Oh, how he had been looking forward to this! Kili was more than ready to submerge himself in ale and eat heartily until his stomach threatened to burst. Not even the presence of Thranduil and his elves bothered him. This truly was a happy occasion.

"There's Uncle and Uncle Bilbo," Fili said. Kili's eyes turned to where his brother was pointing. Sure enough, there they were, sitting at the table designated for the Royal Family and their guests. Even though Thranduil was sitting there as well, Thorin looked to be in good spirits. So did Uncle Bilbo, who shifted slightly on his seat, looking a bit uncomfortable at the movement.

Something seemed different about them. They seemed to be closer and both of them seemed to give off a strange light or glow. As Kili watched them, he saw Uncle's hand disappear under the table and a second later, Uncle Bilbo looked up at him, a grin spread across his face. Hold on…

"Fili?" Kili asked, his irritation long gone.

"Hm?" his brother asked beside him.

"Look at Uncle and Uncle Bilbo," Kili said. "Do they look…funny to you." Fili watched them for a minute before he answered.

"Now that you mention it, yes, they do," Fili replied.

"You don't think that they've…?" Kili trailed off and grinned broadly. Fili reflected his grin with one of his own.

"Oh, yes, Kili, I do," he said. They looked at each other and their grins widened.

"Shall we go and congratulate them?" Fili proposed.

"Yes, we shall," Kili said.

With mischievous grins and giggles, they made for their destination. Oh, Uncle Thorin was going to have their heads for sure.

~…~


	32. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Well, here it is: the final chapter. It really has been one hell of a ride. Words cannot even describe how much fun it's been writing this and I can't even begin telling you all how grateful I am for all of the support and feedback you've all given me. Saying thank you just doesn't seem like enough, and yet there are no other words I can think of to say to you all. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you so very much. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. I hope that this last chapter seals the deal. Let me know what you think! R&R. Enjoy!

~…~

Epilogue

~…~

Every hobbit in the Shire knew the story of Hollis Baggins and the dwarf prince Taegan, son of Thane of the Line of Durin. It was a story that many fathers and mothers told their sons and daughters, nieces and nephews, while enjoying a nice fire on the hearth and getting ready to tuck in for a good night's sleep. Although it was a popular tale indeed, many hobbits thought it was just that: a tale. Surely, such things life debts did not exist and even if they did, no hobbit in their right and respectable mind would get involved in such nonsense.

That was the popular opinion of most hobbits in the Shire, that is, until Bilbo Baggins had become the Royal Consort Under the Mountain. As soon as Master Baggins left his cozy hobbit home with Gandalf the Grey, word began to spread, giving the old story renewed vigor and life. Was the story true, many wondered? Could there have actually been a life debt between Hollis Baggins and Taegan, son of Thane? Many would have asked if Hollis Baggins had even existed were it not for the fact that he was included on the Sackville-Baggins' family tree.

When word has spread to the Shire that Bilbo had married the King of Erebor, the last of the great dwarf kingdoms, many were shocked and even scandalized. What hobbit in their right mind would marry a dwarf? Why would a dwarf even want a hobbit anyway? Had Bilbo been having a secret affair from the prying eyes of the rest of them? If he truly did not care what others thought of him, why hadn't he mentioned it before? And what made Bilbo even agree to the marriage in the first place? By that point, many of the hobbits had reluctantly accepted that there might be things such as life debts, but as all of them had never before experienced one, they were still skeptical. Part of that skepticism rubbed off on the various reasons why Bilbo had agreed to the marriage. Perhaps he had been coerced into agreeing to it; perhaps he had been lied to by that troublesome wizard.

Either way, the entire affair was a very messy business and all that anyone wanted to really know was who got Bag End now that Bilbo was gone – and apparently for good. Just as Lobelia was causing just the right amount of ruckus about it – and truly, the woman could cause quite a stir over the most insignificant details – Gandalf and a handful of dwarves from Erebor had arrived. While the little hobbit children were fascinated by the dwarves with their different clothing and interesting beards, the adults were astonished and some even offended, especially when the dwarves seemed to be squatting in Bag End. It wasn't until Lobelia confronted Gandalf about it did everyone learn the truth.

Apparently, the King of Erebor, Thorin, son of Thrain, had declared that Bag End was still in the possessive of his consort, Bilbo Baggins. And should anyone attempt to take it from him – and that included family – they would be severely punished. Although Gandalf said it pleasantly enough to Lobelia, the look in his eyes was serious and sent a cold spark throughout her. Needless to say, all of her proclamations ceased immediately and debate over who would receive Bag End ended. Bag End was now a summer home and Bilbo was free to return to it whenever he so desired, so long as the King was with him, of course. For dwarves, as the hobbits of the Shire were just beginning to realize, were quite possessive and protective and that even extended to comfortable, little hobbit holes.

~…~

"Are we really going to see the dwarves, Gandalf?" Frodo asked the wizard, his blue eyes wide and shining with both excitement and trepidation.

Poor, young Frodo Baggins had recently lost his parents and Bilbo, having been sent word of the horrible tragedy right away, had decided that he would adopt his little cousin. Gandalf had always been aware that Frodo had been Bilbo's favorite cousin and as such, his declaration hadn't taken the wizard by surprise. Thorin, who did not know any other hobbits aside from Bilbo, had been unsure at first. After all, Frodo was still so very young and had just lost his parents; moving him to a dwarf kingdom, even one such a grand and beautiful as Erebor, might be a bit too much for him. However, Bilbo had told him that Frodo was a Baggins and was therefore made of tougher stuff than what Thorin had been giving him credit for. In the end, the Dwarf King had agreed, although Gandalf knew that he would have regardless.

Bilbo had been more than eager and ready to accompany Gandalf back to the Shire to retrieve Frodo, however, he had experienced a slight accident. While assisting in exploring a new tunnel that Thorin and the miners were thinking of mining, one that was currently too small for anyone other than Bilbo to enter, there had been a minor cave in. Not a large one and not extremely dangerous or life threatening. But it had caused Bilbo to break his leg in the end and he had been forced to remain in bed until Oin had deemed him fit for crutches. Thorin, of course, had been fraught with worry and had been quite tense, lashing out at any given moment. With that in mind, Gandalf thought it would be best and wise to go retrieve Frodo by himself. He was a wizard; he could protect a young hobbit child like Frodo easily enough.

Currently, they were sitting on a wagon pulled by a horse as they made their way towards the Lonely Mountain. When Gandalf had first arrived to the Shire to pick up Frodo, the small hobbit had been shy and timid, but he warmed up to the wizard quickly; most of the Bagginses did. And Gandalf, who loved hobbits dearly, had become quite fond of Frodo over his few days in the Shire. How could he not when the boy had been so quiet and melancholy, looking lost and alone even as he was surrounded by relatives and neighbors? Truthfully, he reminded the wizard of Bilbo when his parents had died and Gandalf believed that that was one of the reasons why Bilbo had been so adamant about taking Frodo under his wing. Bilbo definitely understood what it was like to lose his parents and wanted to reach out to his favorite cousin.

Gandalf turned and looked down at the dark haired hobbit child, his blue eyes twinkling with warmth and kindness.

"My dear Frodo, you aren't just going to see the dwarves of Erebor," Gandalf told him. "You're going to live there with them."

He watched as Frodo's eyes grew wide, making them look even bigger than they already were. They shone with excitement and wonder, but Gandalf knew that although he couldn't see it with his eyes, he knew that Frodo was sad and lost and lonely. It was only natural, but at least he would have something else to focus on, even look forward to, instead of his parents' untimely death.

"Why?" Frodo asked. There was hesitation and uncertainty in his expression now along with the excitement.

"Because your cousin Bilbo lives there, of course, and he has decided to take you under his wing," Gandalf explained to him before he added, "He's the Royal Consort Under the Mountain, Frodo. Your cousin Bilbo is married to Thorin King Under the Mountain."

"Oh, wow," Frodo said, his voice soft and light. "So…Uncle Bilbo is a queen?" At that, Gandalf chuckled heartily.

"In a way, yes, I suppose he is. Although since he's male, he's not called queen but consort," he said, a smile on his face. When Bilbo heard about this, he would laugh. And Fili and Kili would tease him and Thorin both endlessly.

"Gandalf?" Frodo asked, his voice small and soft. He was looking away and chewing on his bottom lip, as he often did when he was worried or nervous.

"What is it, my boy?"

"Will I like Erebor and the dwarves?"

Looking down at the small hobbitling, Gandalf smiled gently and patted his dark, curly hair. Frodo looked up at him, his face contorted in worry and fear. It pained the wizard to see such a look on such a creature.

"Dwarves are very different from hobbits, Frodo, but you will like them. Of that, I am sure," Gandalf told him confidently, yet gently. "And Erebor is a beautiful place, full of many things that I am sure will interest a young hobbit such as yourself."

"Oh. Hey, Gandalf?" Frodo said, most of the worry and fear gone from his face and his voice.

"Yes, Frodo?"

"How did Uncle Bilbo become queen?" the young hobbit asked him. Gandalf didn't have the heart to correct him, not that time anyway.

"I'll tell you all about that, my dear Frodo. But first, let me tell you a story," the wizard replied.

"Will I like the story?"

"I think you will. Very much so, as a matter of fact," Gandalf said. A wide grin replaced the rest of the fear, worry, and doubt on Frodo's face.

"Okay!" Chuckling, Gandalf began.

"You see, Frodo, it all started with Hollis Baggins…"

~…~

The End

~…~


End file.
